


room enough for three

by rarepairenabler



Series: room enough for three [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Multi, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, Unrequited love (Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi), minor Kozume Kenma/Akaashi Keiji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5308151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarepairenabler/pseuds/rarepairenabler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he met Kuroo and Bokuto, Tsukishima didn’t think he’d ever fall in love again. He couldn’t have known he’d fall for two people at the same time and he certainly couldn’t have predicted that the two he’d fall for would already have each other. </p><p>OR “Both of them,” Tsukishima repeats. He hadn't realized that he could <i>want</i>- that he could actually <i>have</i>- <i>oh</i>. It suddenly occurs to him that he’s been an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alphaboner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphaboner/gifts).



“You want to know what your problem is, Tsuki- _shima_?” Hinata says, hiccupping as he swings around in his barstool. Hinata’s flushed face is dimly lit by the club’s colorful lights and he’s leaning too far into Tsukishima’s personal space. 

“No,” Tsukishima replies calmly. He adjusts his glasses and waits for Hinata to continue anyway. 

“You’re too negative,” Hinata slurs. “You’re always saying Hinata, don’t do this, don’t do that. Hinata, stop giving strangers my number. Hinata, don’t puke on my sneakers. Hinata, get your own place and stop sleeping on our couch.” 

Tsukishima scowls at Hinata and tightens his grip around his glass. “Valid complaints.” 

Hinata sways slightly and giggles before taking another sip of his drink. Someone should really cut him off before he ends up puking on Tsukishima’s shoes again. 

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Hinata demands, laughing gleefully as he leaps off his stool and tugs Kageyama towards the dancefloor. “C’mon, we’re here to have _fun_.” 

“Hinata, no,” Kageyama hisses as Hinata drags him further into the crowd. 

“Hinata _yes_ ,” Hinata snickers.

“Just so you know, I blame you for this,” Tsukishima tells Yamaguchi who looks appropriately guilty. “I should have stayed home.” 

“Tsukki-,” Yamaguchi starts but Tsukishima cuts him off with a glare. 

“It’ll just be the two of us, you said,” Tsukishima mocks. “We’ll just grab a bite to eat, you said. Somewhere quiet. Just like _old times_.” 

Yamaguchi sighs and folds his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry. I had to do something. You hardly leave our apartment anymore, except to go to your classes.” 

“That’s not true,” Tsukishima scoffs. He twirls his glass in his hand. “Just because we’ve been spending less time together ever since you and Yachi started dating-”

He also spends a lot of time at the library or the campus coffee shop, if only to avoid being the happy couple’s third wheel. 

Yamaguchi makes a pained noise. “And we’ve told you _several_ times that you’re welcome to hang out with us whenever.” 

“Gee, Tempting. I think I’ll have to decline your generous offer, though.”

“Tsukki-”

“I’m fine,” Tsukishima argues. And really, he is. He doesn’t attend parties or go out on Friday nights but he’s busy. With homework. 

“You’ve been marathoning nature and animal documentaries for the past few months,” Yamaguchi counters. “And- _and_ you don’t even like sweets that much but a week ago went through an entire carton of ice-cream in a day.”

“I’m fine,” Tsukishima insists, yelling over the obnoxious pop music. 

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi groans. He bites his lip as he places a hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder.  
Tsukishima bristles at his expression of concern. He doesn’t need Yamaguchi’s pity. “I didn’t invite you here to argue, Tsukki. I just thought it might be good for you if you went out and socialized every once in a while.” 

“Technically, you didn’t invite me,” Tsukishima snaps. He flags down the bartender for another drink. “You tricked me into what appears to be an intervention.” 

Yamaguchi gapes at him, a red flush spreading along his neck as he stares. Yamaguchi hates confrontation and Tsukishima knows it. Throwing up his arms in surrender, Tadashi makes a noise of disgust.

“Fine, Tsukki. Do what you want,” Yamaguchi huffs, shaking his head as he jumps off his stool. “I’m going to find Hinata before he does anything stupid. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” 

_Good_ , Tsukishima thinks stubbornly as he watches Yamaguchi disappear into the crowd. Yamaguchi should know better than to pull something like this. Now Tsukishima’s stuck at one of the tacky local clubs that smell like beer and only plays vapid, raucous music. His fingers itch to pull out the headphones buried in his pocket. 

Tsukishima scans the dancefloor, already ready to surrender and beg Yamaguchi to drive him home when he someone else catches his eye. The guy’s silver-grey hair is slicked back in a way that would look ridiculous on anyone else but somehow he pulls it off confidently. It’s either a trick of the light, or the guy’s eyes are a vivid shade of amber. The man curls his arms protectively around the waist of whoever it is he’s dancing with (Tsukishima can’t see his partner), an unabashed look of joy on his face as he dances. Tsukishima’s certain that the man’s pants, which cling lewdly to his muscular thighs, shouldn’t be legal. 

The two break apart, leaving the man Tsukishima had been admiring alone on the dance floor. Tsukishima’s unsure what happened to his partner until he feels a sudden tap on his shoulder. 

“Like what you see, huh?” someone purrs. The man’s partner, Tsukishima realizes. Tsukishima blinks rapidly and slowly takes in the man in front of him. 

Shit. His partner’s equally as attractive, because _of course_. His lips are spread in lazy yet predatory grin and his hair is styled into a look that resembles bedhead, but Tsukishima’s willing to bet the guy had put ample effort into looking effortlessly good. 

“Relax, kid,” he snorts, noting the way Tsukishima’s stiffened in his seat. “Nothing wrong with appreciating pretty things, is there?” 

He gives Tsukishima a sly look that immediately puts Tsukishima on edge. “I wasn’t looking,” Tsukishima lies through his teeth. 

The guy slides into the stool next to him and cocks his head to the side. “No? That’d be a shame,” he says, leaning into Tsukishima’s space deliberately. Tsukishima feels the heat of the other man’s breath on his cheek. “Because we’ve been looking at you, Glasses-kun.”

“It’s Tsukishima,” Tsukishima corrects automatically. 

“Tsukishima,” he repeats, pressing his thigh against Tsukishima's as he lets the name roll of his tongue. Tsukishima blushes as if he’d said something inappropriate rather than just his name. “I like it. I’m Kuroo. And the guy you _weren’t_ checking out,” he says with a wink, “is Bokuto.” 

“Hey, hey, hey, who is this, Kuroo?” Bokuto asks, pouting as he drops onto the other stool next to Tsukki. 

“Nobody,” Tsukishima blurts. He glances between them in suspicion. Where the hell was Yamaguchi? “I was just-” leaving, he goes to say. 

“Going to settle a bet for us,” Kuroo finishes. He runs his fingers through his hair and smirks down at Tsukishima. 

Bokuto tilts his head to the side, his thick eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he looks Tsukishima over. “Which would that be? The one about who would win in a fight, a dragon or a shark? Or-”

Kuroo rolls his eyes and ignores their confusion. “You see, Tsukishima, my _boyfriend_ and I have always disagreed about which of us is a better lover.” 

Bokuto slaps his palm against his thigh and offers them both a pleased grin. "Oooh, _that_ bet."

Tsukishima gulps and curls his sweaty hands against the fabric of his jeans. How the hell did he get involved in this? 

“We’ll never really have the answer,” Kuroo shrugs. “Because we’re both-“

“Equally impotent?” Tsukishima guesses at the same time as Bokuto says “Talented.” 

Tsukishima snickers at the glares he receives. 

“Tch. I was going to go with biased,” Kuroo says, low and teasing. “You see, Bokuto’s an expert with his hands. He’ll reach places that’ll have you seeing stars.”

Tsukki’s eyes are immediately drawn to Bokuto’s hands. He imagines how they’d look fisted in Kuroo’s disheveled hair or how Kuroo would look, his eyes darkened in arousal and his cheeks hollowed as he sucks Bokuto’s fingers until they’re both groaning in pleasure. Tsukishima shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the fantasy. 

“Fuck,” Bokuto hisses, his hand brushing Tsukishima’s as he takes a swig of Tsukishima’s drink. “The things Kuroo does with his _mouth_ , though.”

Kuroo smirks and drags his tongue across his lips slowly enough for Tsukishima to catch a glimpse of a metallic stud. Tsukishima's mouth goes dry. 

“Hence, the unsettled question.” Kuroo snatches the glass from Bokuto. Tsukishima watches the bob of Kuroo’s throat as he drinks. He knows he’s been caught looking when Kuroo narrows his eyes and smirks like he’s already won. 

“I was drinking that,” Tsukishima protests. 

“So we’ll buy you another one,” Kuroo says with a shrug. 

Kuroo and Bokuto shuffle in closer to Tsukishima as they exchange sly looks.

“So what do you say to settling the bet?” Bokuto asks eagerly as he elbows Tsukkishima. “Huh? Huh?” 

“ _No_ ,” Tsukishima says. It slips out before he even thinks about it. 

They’re hot, but Tsukishima has never- his first time isn’t going to be a casual threesome. Tsukishima’s a romantic, okay? He wants to be wooed, and wanted, and-

“No?” Kuroo echoes uncertainly, stunned by Tsukishima's rejection. “Are you sure, Glasses-kun?” 

Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows. “We could make it good for you.” 

“No,” Tsukishima says sharply, shaking his head as he resumes his search for his best friend. Where the hell is Tadashi? “I’m going home.” 

Bokuto's shoulders sag as slumps in his stool. “Damn. I think we spooked him,” Bokuto murmurs before someone grabs Kuroo and Bokuto by the backs of their shirts. 

“You two, we’re going home,” the stranger says, glaring down at them in disapproval. “Now.”

“But Akaashi, things were just starting to get interesting,” Kuroo complains. 

“Kenma’s tired. And you two should know better than sexually harassing unsuspecting strangers,” Akaashi grits. He wrenches them away from the bar. 

“But we weren’t-” Bokuto protests. He smiles sheepishly and gives Tsukishima a small wave as Akaashi pulls him away. 

Tsukishima watches them go in disbelief. What the hell was that? He frowns and digs out his cellphone and sends a quick text to Yamaguchi. Hopefully his flush will have disappeared by the time his friend finds him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Bokuto-less chapter I'm sorry D:

The next morning, Tsukishima finds Hinata hungover on his couch. Again. 

“Don’t you ever have classes to get to, Shouyou?” Tsukishima sneers, folding his arms across his chest as his gaze shifts to the pillow that Hinata’s drooled all over. Hinata murmurs sleepily and rolls over on his side. “Or at least other friends?” 

Hinata squints up at Tsukishima, reaching upwards and fogging Tsukishima’s glasses as he covers Tsukishima’s face with his sweaty hand. “Shh, stop screaming. S’too early.” 

The sunlight streaming through the window illuminates Hinata’s disheveled orange hair, making 

Hinata look like an angel rather than the imp that he really is. 

“It’s 10 in the afternoon,” Tsukishima counters. He places a hand on his hip as he uses his other  
hand to pry Hinata’s fingers off his face. 

Hinata hisses as he curls against the couch and pulls the blanket back over his head. 

“S’ _early_.”

Tsukishima refuses to sacrifice another pillow to Hinata’s disgusting sleeping habits. He also doesn’t want to spend the better half of his day on nurse duty. “If you don’t get up right now, I’ll tell Kageyama that it was _you_ who drunk dialed him during the Christmas party and left him that sappy confession,” Tsukishima threatens.

Hinata squawks indignantly from beneath the blanket. Tugging the blanket down slightly, he squints his brown eyes in uncertainty as he tries to gauge Tsukishima’s expression. “You _wouldn’t_.”

Tsukishima raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge. 

Hinata groans in response before flinging the covers off himself and the couch. “Shit, you would,” Hinata whines sleepily as he rubs at his half-lidded eyes. He shifts onto his knees and yawns. “Uh, did I do anything embarrassing last night?”

“I don’t think so,” Tsukishima says, lifting his shoulders in a shrug as he keeps he expression carefully composed. “Or at least nothing more embarrassing than your sober life choices.” 

Hinata glares at Tsukishima and kicks him in the shin. “Ugh. Remind me again why we’re friends?”

Tsukishima hums in consideration. “Proximity?” he snickers. “Similar social circles?” 

“Tadashi isn’t a ‘social circle,’ jerkface. He’s a person,” Hinata retorts, wagging a finger as he sticks his tongue out at Tsukishima and laughs. 

Tsukishima clucks his tongue in irritation. “Brat,” he mutters, ducking down and pulls Hinata into a headlock. He ruffles Hinata’s hair as Hinata whimpers and tries to wriggle out of Tsukishima’s grip. 

“I surrender!” Hinata yelps. “No need to be such an asshat, Four-eyes.” 

Tsukishima chuckles and tightens his grip. “You want to say that again, shrimp?”

They both look up at the sound of a loud put-upon sigh. Yamaguchi’s leaning against the banister, his lips stretched in a thin line as he shakes his head against the palm of his head. “Couldn’t you just get along for once?” Yamaguchi pleads as he adjusts his ponytail. “Just for my sake? I could use some peace of mind.”

“No,” Tsukishima and Hinata chorus at the same time. 

Yamaguchi grumbles unhappily as Hinata and Tsukishima exchange glares. “Guess not. Hey Tsukki, you never did tell me what trouble you got up to yesterday after I left. Hinata mentioned something about two seniors?”

Tsukishima purses his lips together and shrugs. He hadn’t considered that the couple he’d run into last night are University students too, but Hinata is probably right. The club’s located near the campus, so it’s only really frequented by University students or locals. It’s possible they’re seniors, like Hinata guessed, but Tsukishima hadn’t asked. 

Hinata nods furiously, sitting upright in his excitement. “They were so _hot_ , Tadashi.”

“Were they?” Tsukishima asks, averting his gaze and trying to avoid the questioning look Yamaguchi gives him. 

“Oh please, as if you didn’t notice,” Hinata says with a snort. “They were crazy attractive. And they wanted _Tsukishima_ , of all people.” 

“He’s exaggerating,” Tsukishima mumbles. 

Hinata snorts again and runs his hands across his face. “They were sitting so close they were practically in your lap. And Bedhead was totally giving you come-hither eyes.” 

Tsukishima scoffs. “Bedhead- You don’t even know what ‘hither’ means do you?” 

“I do! It’s a sex thing, right?” Hinata replies. “It’s- _oh god_.” Hinata covers his mouth and makes a lurching noise as he bolts down the hallway in search of their washroom.

“Tch, classic.” Tsukishima snorts, shaking his head in amusement at the muffled gagging sounds coming from their washroom. “He knows he’s a lightweight, and yet he does this every time.”

It doesn’t help, of course, that whenever Hinata and Kageyama are together, they make everything into a damn competition. Even drinking. 

Yamaguchi crosses his arms and silently studies Tsukishima. “Two hot seniors, huh?” Yamaguchi says teasingly, scratching his cheek before letting out a low whistle. Tsukishima turns away, pulling at the strings of his hoodie. “It wasn’t like that.”

Yamaguchi raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh? What’s it like then?”

“It’s like Shouyou said, I suppose,” Tsukishima says, gesturing vaguely as he adjusts his glasses. “A sex thing. They were together. They were just looking for someone or something to spice up their sex lives.”

“So you rejected them,” Yamaguchi says in between a long sip of his coffee. “Same as always.” 

Tsukishima makes an affronted noise. It’s not like he gets loads of confessions or anything, it's just that none of them are ever sincere. “People only like me because I’m tall,” Tsukishima argues. “How can someone be interested in me if they don’t even know me?”

Yamaguchi’s face softens. “And how can anyone ever get to know you if you don’t let them?”  
His gaze flickers to his wristwatch. “Oh, look at the time. I’m late for my biology lab. Lock the door behind me?” 

Tsukishima grumbles in annoyance and puts his headphones back on. 

~*~

By the time he goes to fetch his coffee from the campus café, Tsukishima’s still in a bad mood. He grimaces as the door creaks shut behind him. The line’s shorter than usual, at least. Tsukishima considers it a single blessing in an otherwise crappy afternoon as he quickly makes his way to the front of the line and recites his order. Someone suddenly shoulders past him and drops a few coins on the counter. 

“The coffee and bagel are on me. Oh, and I’ll have an iced mocha latte,” the rude yet apparently generous stranger in front of him says and oh-- Tsukishima recognizes that voice, even when it’s not strained from yelling over music. He recognizes the broad shoulders and that untamed mane, too. 

“Kuroo?” Tsukishima asks in horror. He’d naïvely assumed he’d never see either of them again. 

Kuroo spins around, his lips are spread in a wide grin as he’s precariously holding Tsukishima’s paper bag between his clenched teeth and a coffee in each hand. “Mhfff!”

“I can’t hear a word you’re saying,” Tsukishima tells him as he pries his coffee out of Kuroo’s hand. “And I can buy my own coffee.” 

“So you remember me, huh?” Kuroo beams and drops Tsukishima's bag into his newly-freed hand. 

“Glasses-kun! What a pleasant surprise it is to run into you like this.” Ignoring Tsukishima’s weak protests, Kuroo ushers Tsukishima towards a table. Kuroo slides into a vacant seat and kicks out the other chair for Tsukishima to sit in. “Come on, Glasses-kun. Sit with me. Eat,” Kuroo says as he steeples his hands under his chin. “Or do you have someplace else to be?” 

“For the last time,” Tsukishima grits as he reluctantly takes a seat across from Kuroo. “It’s _Tsukishima Kei_.” 

Kuroo smiles as he carefully hands Tsukishima his bagel like it’s a peace offering. “Kei. Can I call you that?” 

“No.” 

“Look, Kei. I feel like we got off to the wrong start. Bo and I just got carried away, you know? But we want a chance to make it up to you,” Kuroo explains as he adjusts the strap of his leather messenger bag. 

Tsukishima considers this. “And now you’ve bought me coffee. I guess we’re even. May I leave now?” 

The corners of Kuroo’s lips twitch as he suppresses a laugh. “So you’re a freshman, huh? What are you studying?”

“Engineering,” Tsukishima answers. He narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Why?” 

Kuroo does chuckle now, though he muffles it against the sleeve of his cardigan. “Just making conversation. Are you always this testy, Kei?” Kuroo asks, gently nudging Tsukishima’s leg with his foot. “I’m a philosophy major. Bokuto’s studying to become an elementary school teacher.”

“Oh? They’re letting children teach other children now?” Tsukishima muses before taking a bite of his bagel. “That’s a scary thought.”

“I guess Bokuto can seem a little childish sometimes,” Kuroo agrees with a shrug. “But he’s good at the whole teaching thing. He knows how to encourage others and he’s patient, too. When he wants to be.”

A comfortable silence falls between them and Tsukishima makes the mistake of lowering his guard.

“And your boyfriend? What does he study?” Kuroo inquires, feigning disinterest. 

Tsukishima drops his bagel onto his napkin. His blinks up at Kuroo and frowns. “My what now?”

“Boyfriend,” Kuroo repeats slowly, as if Tsukishima’s recently sustained a head injury. “Freckle face? We saw you leave with him earlier.” 

Breathing deeply, Tsukishima clenches his fists against the table. His nails leave crescent-shaped gouges in the wood. “Tadashi and I aren’t together.” 

Kuroo’s mouth falls open in surprise. He cocks his head to the side and taps his fingers against his chin. “I’m sorry. It seems I’ve struck a nerve, huh?”

“We’re just friends,” Tsukishima snaps, his gaze hardening. Surely it couldn’t be that obvious, could it? 

Kuroo bites as his bottom lip and narrows his eyes as he studies Tsukishima’s face. He must find what he’s looking for because the tension releases from his shoulders as Kuroo runs his hand through his hair, combing his dark bangs back with his fingers. 

“If you say so,” Kuroo says easily and gives Tsukishima a wry grin. “I must have misread the situation.” 

A slow smile creeps across Tsukishima’s face, the kind that usually has people stumbling to get away from Tsukishima as fast as possible. “An honest mistake.”

“Ah, now I definitely need a chance to redeem myself. Bokuto and I are going to catch a movie this Saturday. You should join us. It’ll be our treat.” 

_What’s the catch?_ Tsukishima wonders as he takes in Kuroo’s loose posture and lazy smile. 

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” Tsukishima says instead. “I’ve never- _uh_.” 

Clearly Kageyama and Hinata’s poor social skills are rubbing off on him. 

Kuroo arches an eyebrow. “Kei, do you doubt my intentions?” Kuroo asks, his eyes widening in false shock as he clutches at his t-shirt.

 _“Yes_." 

That seems to sober Kuroo, who grimaces and immediately straightens in his chair. “Oi. You still think I’m just trying to get in your pants?”

Tsukishima scrunches his nose in confusion. “Why else would you have approached me at the club? It’s a regular thing for you two, isn’t it?” 

Kuroo’s frown deepens. “Is that what you think of us?” He sighs and pulls out a napkin from his pocket, quickly writing something down as he sucks at the inside of his cheek. 

“Look, if you join us I _promise_ we’ll both be on our best behavior. We’ll even buy you your own bag of popcorn,” Kuroo says with a wink as he slides the napkin across the table. He buries his hands in his over-sized pockets as he stands to leave. “I’ve written my number down, but you don’t have to call if you don’t want to. I hope you will, though. Bokuto and I are looking forward to hearing from you.” 

Tsukishima is left alone with the napkin. He considers throwing out... but upon a deeper inspection, he notices that Kuroo’s doodled a picture of a grinning black cat with its tongue out as well as several arrows pointing to the number. Against his better judgment, he folds napkin and tucks it carefully into his pocket before leaving.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with 100% more Bokuto! In case of confusion - Tsukishima used to have a crush on Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi knows this but he didn't return Tsukishima's feelings. They're still bffs and all is well between them which the exception of rare awkward moments. I'll go into this more in the next chapter I promise.

“But what if he doesn’t call?” Bokuto whines for the third time in an hour. He runs his hands through his hair and eases back against Kuroo. Bokuto is perched on Kuroo’s lap, right on top of Kuroo’s crossed legs as they watch television. The position can’t be very comfortable for Kuroo, but Kuroo doesn’t complain.

Instead, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around Bokuto’s waist as he rests his chin against Bokuto’s shoulder. The motion tugs at the Bokuto’s crop top, making it ride up further.

“He’ll call,” Kuroo insists with a confidence he doesn't really feel.“And if he doesn’t, it’s his loss. Right Bo?” 

Bokuto’s lips pulls into a wide grin as he leans back and turns his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of Kuroo’s jaw. Satisfied, Bokuto thrusts his fist in the air, hollering cheerfully as Kuroo kisses him back. “Damn _straight!_ ”

Even now, it catches Kuroo off-guard how quickly Bokuto’s mood can lift or sink. Kuroo’s relieved nonetheless as Bokuto curls against him, twining their fingers together. Bokuto’s eyes fluttering shut as he presses their hands against his bare stomach and Kuroo chances a look at Akaashi who’s too preoccupied with Kenma to notice them. Aiming for subtlety, Kuroo slides his fingers along the waistband of his boyfriend’s low-hanging sweatpants. 

“You’re a grope away from having to put another handful of yen in the PDA jar, Kuroo,” Akaashi says casually, looking down at them from the corner of his eye.

“S’worth it,” Kuroo murmurs, trailing his hand lower as he brushes his lips against Bokuto’s shoulder. Bokuto scrunches his nose, the puffs of Kuroo’s warm breath against his skin causing him to giggle.

“200 yen,” Akaashi annunciates slowly. He stops brushing Kenma’s hair and waves the brush at them. “Or 300 yen now. Because our _guest_ doesn’t need to see this either.” 

Bokuto waves his hand in dismissal. “Tch, Kenma’s not even watching us. You’re just trying to extort your best friends.”

Akaashi hums in consideration, his lips twitching upward as he runs the brush through Kenma’s dyed hair again. He misses the way Kenma leans back into the gentle strokes. “Hmm... maybe I am, but it wouldn’t be an issue if either of you had even a miniscule of restraint,” says Akaashi. 

Releasing a loud huff of indignation, Bokuto gapes at his friend. “A- _kaa_ -shi! Rude. To accuse Kuroo and I of-”

With a humorless smile, Kenma sets down his DS onto his lap and buries his hand between the couch cushions. Pulling his hand back, Kenma wrinkles his nose and reveals a small half-empty container of lube. “You were saying?”

Akaashi narrows his eyes at them accusingly as he fishes a hairband from his pocket. “I’m not even going to ask,” he sighs, tugging Kenma’s hair into a small bun. “You two _know_ the house rules.”

Kuroo tilts his head and smirks unapologetically at Akaashi and Kenma. “I like the hairstyle, Kitten. It suits you.” 

Kenma flushes at the compliment and quickly buries his nose back into his DS, his interest in his game suddenly doubling.

“House rules,” Bokuto mocks, imitating Akaashi’s flat tone. “So what, I can’t touch my own boyfriend now?” 

Akaashi clicks his tongue at the question as Kuroo muffles his snort against Bokuto’s shoulder. “Sure you can, Bokuto-san. In the privacy of your own rooms. Not in the living room, or the washroom, or-”

“We get it, we get it,” Bokuto says, paling at the unimpressed look his best friend gives them. 

“Or on the _kitchen counter_ ,” Akaashi finishes, determined to have the last word. “The kitchen is for food preparation. This is a serious _sanitary issue_.”

Kuroo yawns loudly and nuzzles his nose against Bokuto’s cheek. “You’re such a prude, Akaashi.” 

“-Speaking of house rules, Bokuto-san… for the love of god, please stop linking us all to bird videos in the group chat. That’s house rule number three, right after ‘no pet names,’” Akaashi says, reciting part of the forever-growing list of rules he’s compiled to try and keep Kuroo and Bokuto in check. 

In Kuroo and Bokuto’s defense, Akaashi should know better than to compile a list of things that get under his skin. The temptation’s too much for either of them to resist. 

Kuroo’s eyebrows draw together as he cocks his head to the side. “I’m sorry. Did you hear something, Schmookums?” 

“Sounds like a hater to me, Sweetums,” says Bokuto, curling his hand behind his ear as squints and purses his lips as if he’s straining to hear. 

“Don’t,” Akaashi hisses, but it’s too late now. Kenma pats Akaashi’s shoulder consolingly. 

“Light of my life,” Kuroo sighs happily and makes loud, exaggerated smooching noises at Bokuto. 

Bokuto laughs, elated as he presses soft kisses to Kuroo’s knuckles. “Captor of my heart.”

“Fire of my-” 

“You’re both the worst.” Akaashi sighs into his hands. “No more pet names. No more birds. No more sex on the living room furniture.”

“Hey hey heyy!” Bokuto protests, his mouth twisting into a frown. “Listen. _Listen. _Those birds were building homes for their mates. Isn’t that adorable?”__

__“It’s alright, I guess,” Kenma says with a shrug. His gaze is still fixed on the game he’s playing. Akaashi desperately wishes that he had his own distraction. “I prefer cat videos, though.”_ _

__Bokuto crosses his arms and pouts._ _

__“Don’t listen to them, Bo. It’s the _cutest_ ,” Kuroo dutifully assures him. _ _

__Bokuto flashes Kuroo a shy smile. “Babe, I’d totally build you a house. Or find you the best rock, or dance for you, or-”_ _

__Kuroo snorts at the idea of a Bokuto performing a mating dance._ _

__“Humans already have their own mating ritual, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi informs him. “It’s called marriage.”_ _

__The corners of Kenma’s lips twitch slightly as a scarlet flush creeps along Bokuto’s neck._ _

__“Aw, Sweetcheeks,” Kuroo coos, clutching his chest as he smirks. “I appreciate the sentiment but we’re a little young for marriage. You don’t have to worry about putting a ring on this, though,” he says, wiggling his fingers. “I’m not going anywhere.”_ _

__Bokuto pumps his fist in the air again. “Damn straight.”_ _

__Kuroo tilts his head up and presses his lips to Bokuto’s who deepens the kiss almost instantly, running his tongue along the seam of Kuroo’s lips as Kuroo shifts his hips against Bokuto’s. Forgetting their audience, Kuroo matches Bokuto’s pace. He reaches down and yanks at Bokuto’s shirt, tugging his boyfriend fully into his lap as Bokuto clutches desperately at Kuroo’s shoulders. Bokuto’s always like this when they kiss --frenzied and impatient, Kuroo notes as Bokuto whimpers and rolls his hips against him. Kuroo scrapes his teeth against Bokuto’s lower lip, smirking at the broken little noises Bokuto makes in response. _What would it be like kissing Kei?_ Kuroo wonders. _Would he be eager for it, like Bokuto? Would his kisses be rough and bruising?_ Kuroo shivers at the thought as he slides his hand beneath Bokuto’s shirt._ _

__Akaashi makes a pained noise and launches a pillow at them. Bokuto and Kuroo dodge the pillow, their lips not parting even as Kuroo flips Akaashi off._ _

__“If your new ‘friend’ does call,” Akaashi says, deadpan as he glances between them, “I really hope he knows what he’s getting into.”_ _

__“We’re leaving,” Kenma announces, sounding only slightly annoyed as he tugs on Akaashi’s hand._ _

__“When I get back, I expect the PDA jar to be _full_ ,” Akaashi declares, his face blank even as he cracks his knuckles. _ _

____

~*~

__Tsukishima doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into when he finally messages Kuroo._ _

__It does take Tsukishima until Friday before he finally decides that perhaps he could use another friend or two. His mind unhelpfully supplies the image of his brother ruffling his hair and asking Tsukishima if he’s getting along with the other kids. So... he texts, just days after seeing Kuroo again. Not because he’s a coward, though. Obviously. If he’d messaged him sooner he probably would’ve seemed desperate. Tsukishima considers calling but that’s too formal. Text messaging is better, it’s more _casual_. He flops down on his bed as he sends out a simple text asking for the details. Grunting, Tsukishima buries his phone under his pillow so that he’ll stop glancing at it in anticipation. _ _

__The music blasting through Tsukishima’s headphones drowns out the sound of his phone buzzing. He’ll check it later, he decides. When his stomach’s stops doing flips and his mouth feels less dry. _So uncool, Kei,_ he thinks in annoyance before succumbing to sleep. _ _

____

~*~

__Tsukishima hadn’t anticipated that Yamaguchi would be back from his morning jog so early._ _

__“You’re up early,” Yamaguchi notes cheerfully, dabbing at his forehead with a towel. “Hot date, Tsukki?”_ _

__Tsukishima flushes slightly and glances down at himself, searching for whatever it is that gave him away. His frantic search is disrupted by Yamaguchi’s muffled laughter._ _

__“Relax, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says. His eyes gleam in amusement as he leans over the counter and watches Tsukishima squirm. “It’s nothing obvious. Well, maybe a little. But just to me.”_ _

__“It’s not-“_ _

__Yamaguchi cocks an eyebrow at him. “You’re wearing your favorite pair of jeans and you’re headed out, but without your headphones. You don’t have a pinched look on your face. It’s like you’re trying too hard to seem neutral. You also keep checking your watch, which means you’re nervous.”_ _

__“Do you have to pay such close attention to everything?” Tsukishima mutters, eyes shifting to the ground in embarrassment._ _

__Yamaguchi elbows Tsukishima playfully and says, “I can’t help it. It’s a natural consequence of the whole ‘friends since childhood thing.’ Could it be that Tsukki’s met someone?”_ _

__Tsukishima shakes his head as he adjusts his glasses self-consciously. “It’s _not_ a date. The three of us just going to the movies. As friends.” _ _

__Yamaguchi’s grin turns mischievous. “Two someones, huh?”_ _

__“It’s not like that,” Tsukishima snaps, flinching at the sound of his own voice as his brows furrowing in irritation. Yamaguchi narrows his eyes at Tsukishima suspiciously._ _

__“That was supposed to be a joke, Tsukki,” says Yamaguchi, his playful smile disappearing as he notes the way how Tsukishima flinched and how tightly Tsukishima’s gripping their kitchen countertop. “Although...” Yamaguchi’s expression turns serious. “If it _is_ like that—you know what you’re doing, right?” _ _

__“Tch,” Tsukishima grunts. _Of course I know what I’m doing_ , he scoffs to himself. Kuroo and Bokuto are dating. And they wanted to be his friends. That’s as simple as it gets. There’s nothing to figure out. “They’re friends.” Maybe. They _could_ be. Tsukishima would rather watch Hinata drunkenly ruin another pair of Tsukishima’s shoes than confess to Yamaguchi how he’d met Kuroo and Bokuto. _ _

__“Just friends, huh? You sure? Because that _is_ sort of your type,” Yamaguchi points out. Yamaguchi’s eyes grow comically wide and he clamps a hand over his mouth in realization of what he’s just said. “Shit. Tsukki, I’m sorry.” _ _

__“You’re not wrong,” Tsukishima admits. He bites his lip at the distraught look Yamaguchi gives him. Tsukishima likes his friend better this way, anyway. Honest, forthright, if not a bit cruel. “Don’t worry about it, Yamaguchi. I know you didn’t mean it like. Anyways, it’s different this time. I’m not going to develop _feelings_ for them.” Tsukishima smiles as if the idea’s almost too absurd to voice. _ _

__“It’s not going to happen again,” he says softly, ruffling Yamaguchi’s hair. “I promise.”_ _

__Reassured, Yamaguchi grins. “Okay, Tsukki! I’m happy for you, then. Good for you for putting yourself out there.” He gives Tsukishima an enthusiastic thumbs up and Tsukishima rolls his eyes in response._ _

____

~*~

__Tsukishima arrives five minutes early and finds Bokuto and Kuroo already waiting for him. Kuroo’s expression flickers from surprise to tentative happiness. He elbows Bokuto in the stomach and gestures towards Tsukishima._ _

__Upon finally spotting Tsukishima, Bokuto leaps at Kuroo and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Hey hey _hey_ , Glasses-kun! Kuroo said you wouldn’t call but I _knew_ you would,” he says, his cheek pressing against Kuroo’s as he grins. _ _

__Kuroo pushes Bokuto off him easily and snickers. “That’s not even remotely true, Bo.”_ _

__“How long have you two been waiting for me?” Tsukishima asks as they start moving towards the movie theatre. He glances up at the board in search of any titles he might recognize._ _

__“Just now-“_ _

__“-15 minutes ago,” Bokuto answers at the same time._ _

__Tsukishima’s brow furrows as he looks between Kuroo and Bokuto in confusion._ _

__“15 minutes ago,” Kuroo admits, burying his hands in his pocket as he bites his lower lip. “Bokuto got anxious about being late so we left a bit early.”_ _

__“Pfft. How _gentlemanly _,” Tsukishima mocks.___ _

____Bokuto flushes and swats at Kuroo’s head. “Don’t tell him that,” Bokuto whines, shielding his face with his hands._ _ _ _

____Tsukishima bites back an amused smile as he tugs on the strings of his own hoodie. They’re already being weird about it. Still, it warms something in his chest. Earlier, Yamaguchi had called Tsukishima out on being nervous. Is it possible that they are too?_ _ _ _

____The bird’s nest that is Kuroo’s usual hairstyle seems less unkempt. Like maybe he’d actually acquainted himself with a comb sometime today. Kuroo’s maroon t-shirt dips just beneath his collar and the skinny jeans Kuroo’s wearing cling to his slim legs—legs that are nearly as long as Tsukishima’s. Suddenly feeling more than just a little warm, Tsukishima focuses on Bokuto instead. Unlike when they first met, Bokuto’s hair is down. The grey tank top stretches too tight over Bokuto’s muscular shoulders. Tsukishima’s eyes keep getting drawn to Bokuto’s toned forearms._ _ _ _

____Tsukishima can feel Kuroo’s smugness at having caught Tsukishima looking not once, but _twice_ now. His mind conjures the memory of Kuroo leaning in, purring, _“See something you like, Glasses-kun?”__ _ _ _

____“You both look…” Tsukishima trails off. He coughs and ducks his head._ _ _ _

____“Oi, was that almost a compliment, Kei?” Kuroo arches an eyebrow at Tsukishima. “You know, you don’t have to pretend to be all grumpy around us.”_ _ _ _

____“We think you look hot, too,” Bokuto supplies helpfully, his honey colored eyes half-lidded as he gives Tsukishima a once-over._ _ _ _

____Kuroo tsks. “He means that platonically.”_ _ _ _

____Distressed, Tsukishima coughs harder and presses his knuckles to the bridge of his nose. “Did you two at least pick a movie yet?”_ _ _ _

____“Mmm? Oh, right. How do you feel about cheesy action movies?” Kuroo asks, waving their tickets in front of Tsukishima. “I was going to let you pick, but had I waited any longer, Bokuto might have persuaded me into watching yet _another_ musical.” _ _ _ _

____“Good call, then,” Tsukishima agrees, pointedly ignoring Bokuto’s sulking._ _ _ _

________

~*~

____Watching a movie with Bokuto and Kuroo is an _experience_. _ _ _ _

____The movie they’ve chosen is 3D, Tsukishima realizes with annoyance as he’s handed his glasses._ _ _ _

____“Shit, my bad,” Kuroo says, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly as he frowns. “It was the only showing they had available for tonight. And it totally slipped my mind-“_ _ _ _

____“That Glass-kun wears glasses?” Tsukishima offers. He sighs and slides the glasses over his other frames. “Don’t worry about it.”_ _ _ _

____Kuroo and Bokuto buy Tsukishima popcorn, just as they’d promised. Although they also buy Tsukishima licorice and pay for his ticket, which is a bit excessive. Their plan to avoid any awkward hand touching is thwarted when someone bumps into Bokuto, sending the bag whirling through the air. Bokuto and Kuroo stare dejectedly at their scattered popcorn._ _ _ _

____“Let me guess,” says Tsukishima in resignation. “Sharing is caring?”_ _ _ _

____“Your words, not mine,” Kuroo says, barking with laughter as Tsukishima shoves the bag against Kuroo’s chest._ _ _ _

____Bokuto and Kuroo cheerfully follow him into the cinema. Tsukishima is seated in between them, the bag balanced on his lap as Kuroo and Bokuto lean over him to grab giant fistfuls of popcorn, some of which lands in Tsukishima’s lap or falls down his hoodie._ _ _ _

____Tsukishima swats at their hands as they reach in for more. “You’re both savages.”_ _ _ _

____Bokuto makes an indignant noise. His mouth’s too full to protest. Kuroo grins at Tsukishima, his cheeks stretching comically wide around a mouthful of popcorn, making him look like a chipmunk._ _ _ _

____Tsukishima claps a hand over his own mouth and snickers. “ _Cute _,” he says with only a hint of sarcasm.___ _ _ _

______Kuroo swallows loudly, his grin broadening as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “S’what we were aiming for,” Kuroo tells Tsukishima, winking as he leans back in his chair and drapes around Tsukishima’s seat._ _ _ _ _ _

______Tsukishima resolutely ignores this, just as he ignores the small gasps Bokuto makes during the movie trailers and the way Kuroo noisily sucks the butter off his own fingers during the opening credits._ _ _ _ _ _

______But Kuroo and Bokuto are not easy people to ignore._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey, hey, hey, did you see that?” Bokuto demands, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper as he nudges Tsukishima._ _ _ _ _ _

______It’s the fourth time he’s asked. Tsukishima grits his teeth. “Yes, Bokuto. I saw.” In honesty, he hadn’t been paying much attention. He was too busy watching Kuroo _fellate_ his own fingers. It’s _lewd_. No, unsanitary. _ _ _ _ _ _

______“Don’t be gross,” mutters Tsukishima, tossing a pile of napkins at Kuroo. “Use a napkin.” Kuroo pulls his fingers out with a pop, his expression clouded with confusion as he turns to face Tsukishima. Tsukishima’s cheeks grow warm and he turns attention back to the movie before Kuroo can call him out on it._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bokuto’s equally as frustrating. Like Hinata, Bokuto’s an animated movie-watcher. He bounces in his seat whenever something excitement happens, his fingers clutching at his arm-rest and his shoulder brushing against Tsukishima’s whenever he’s startled, which happens every time something explodes. And this movie has so many damn explosions. Bokuto’s vocal, too._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey Kuroo, do you think it’d hurt to leap from a car like that?” Bokuto asks at some point. And later: “Shit, dude faked his own death! I didn’t see that coming.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Kuroo presses his lips together in irritation and flicks a kernel at Bokuto’s nose. “Babe, we’re trying to watch a movie. Maybe save the commentary until _after _the movie’s over?”___ _ _ _ _ _

________“Tetsu,” Bokuto gasps, panting excitedly as he drums his fingers against his own thigh. “Tetsu I have an idea. Do it again,” says Bokuto, sitting up in seat as he opens his mouth and arches his head back. “Throw more.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Kuroo shrugs and tosses a handful of popcorn at Bokuto’s open mouth. A few kernels go in while the rest land between them on Tsukishima’s lap. “Nice,” he says in approval as Bokuto gives them the thumbs up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Do you mind?” hisses the couple in front of them. They whip around to glare at Tsukishima, Kuroo and Bokuto. Bokuto and Kuroo break into hysterics and have to be shushed repeatedly before they calm down again. It’s a miracle that the three of them aren’t escorted out of the theatre._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________By the time the end credits are playing, Tsukishima’s unsure what the movie was about. He is, however, positive that Bokuto and Kuroo should never be allowed out in public._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________

~*~

________“Crap, we messed up again, didn’t we?” Bokuto asks, choking back a sob. He buries his hands in his hair and groans loudly in frustration._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Tsukishima furrows his brows in confusion. “Well, I mean-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’m sorry, Kei! I didn’t mean to annoy you. I can get sort of rowdy sometimes,” says Bokuto. Bokuto sighs as Kuroo reaches out and places a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. “I get it if you don’t want spend any time with us, though!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Tsukishima groans internally at the forced smile Bokuto gives him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Bo,” Kuroo interjects as Bokuto shakes him off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“It wasn’t so bad, really,” Tsukishima says. Kuroo and Bokuto are silly, but they’re also fun and open in a way that maybe he needs in his life these days. “I had a good time, I guess.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Kuroo gasps and collapses against Bokuto. Bokuto catches him automatically, outstretching his arms to support Kuroo’s weight as if it’s something they’d practiced. “A good time?” I’m blushing, really.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Bokuto beams. He nods and gives Kuroo a high five. “A raving review from Glasses-kun.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________‘Does this mean I’ll hear from you again?” Kuroo asks hesitantly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Tsukishima nods. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, holding his phone out to Bokuto. “Yeah. Both of you will if you if Bokuto gives me his-“_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He’s cut off by Bokuto tugging him into a tight bear hug. “Both of us, huh?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’m regretting my decisions,” Tsukishima tells them, his face squished against Bokuto’s shoulder and his back pressed against Kuroo’s chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Kuroo tilts his head back and laughs. “It’s too late for that now, Glasses-kun.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Tsukishima thinks he might be right, although being caught between Kuroo and Bokuto might not be the worst place to be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took longer! I was busy writing assignments and studying for my finals. I know rating is a little high but don't worry, we'll get there. Dicks /will/ touch. In the meantime, have some headcanons for this fic:
> 
> \- Hinata likes to put his cold hands on people  
> \- The month after Bokuto watched Frozen was the worst month of Akaashi's life  
> \- Bokuto and Kuroo are constantly using up all the hot water. Not for shower sex but for duets. Bokuto claims their washroom has great acoustics  
> \- Kenma gets Akaashi to kill his spiders for him  
> \- Bokuto owns owl slippers and Kuroo has red boxer shorts with lil cats on them. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed their not-date! and that you read my note + tags about Tsukki Yama. 
> 
> As I mentioned previously, I have two tumblr accounts (okay more than that but two relevant ones). My main account is **[here](http://www.montystilinski.tumblr.com)** while my Haikyuu related blog is **[here :)](http://www.tobioslilgiant.tumblr.com)**. Feel free to message me or to send me prompts!
> 
> AND thank you so much to my lovely [beta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sausaged) for helping me through this!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like dumb beach scenes + Akaken because that's basically what this chapter is

After watching a movie with them, Bokuto and Kuroo are suddenly _everywhere_.

They walk Tsukishima to class on a near daily basis. They buy him coffee sometimes and they text him constantly. The snapchats are a constant thing, too. Bokuto’s the worst of two – so far he’s sent pictures of Kuroo and Bokuto with bow clips in their hair, of Akaashi and Kenma snuggling in their onesies after they’d fallen asleep together on the couch, of the toast Kuroo burnt when he tried making Bokuto breakfast, and of Bokuto's fuzzy owl slippers. 

Kuroo’s only sent one picture – Bokuto sprawled out on his bed, his honey colored eyes half-lidded and his lips stretched into a lazy sleepy smile. Bokuto uses one arm to prop his head up while his hand curls beneath his t-shirt’s, tugging it up to reveal a light dusting of hair that trails down into the waistband of his sweatpants. There's nothing explicitly sexual about the picture, but just looking at makes Tsukishima’s face burn and his heart race. Tsukishima saves the picture to his phone immediately.

Tsukishima’s _point_ though, is that it feels like they’ve infiltrated his once peaceful life. He’d complain about to Yamaguchi, but there’s no way his best friend would miss the touch of satisfaction to Tsukishima’s voice or the _fond_ look that spreads over his features whenever he thinks of them. So Tsukishima endures it--quietly. 

So logically, he shouldn’t be surprised and he hears a loud knock on his door at 10 a.m. on a Saturday and discovers Kuroo and Bokuto waiting for him outside. 

“Hey, hey, hey! We’re going to the beach today, Glasses-kun,” Bokuto hollers as he and Kuroo stride past Tsukishima and into his living room. “Go get your stuff! We don’t have all day.” 

“I didn’t agree to this,” Tsukishima points out, even as he shuffles into his room in search of his swimsuit trunks. 

“You’ll come though, won’t you?” Bokuto pouts. 

“Either of you could have just texted.” 

“Hey, where’s the fun it that?” Kuroo follows Tsukishima into his room and Bokuto trails closely behind.

Bokuto crouches in front of Tsukishima’s dresser. “Oi Kei, is that you?” his voice laced in disbelief as he points to the framed picture of a young grinning Tsukishima with his arm wrapped around Yamaguchi’s shoulder. “I didn’t even know you _could_ do that with your face!” Bokuto laughs when Kuroo ducks down to see the photograph. They exchange an amused look. 

“You were such a cute kid, Kei. What happened?” Kuroo asks and smirks at the flat look Tsukishima gives him. 

Tsukishima shrugs. “Can’t you tell? I grew to be a handsome young man, obviously.”

Bokuto chokes. Kuroo’s mouth falls open in surprise but a moment later he’s grinning again. “Obviously,” Kuroo agrees. He hooks his hands in the back pockets of his shorts before his eyes begin to wander again. “Is that a collection of dinosaur figurines?”

Folding his arms across his chest, Tsukishima huffed. “So what if they are? You know what, both of you. _Get out of my room_ or wait for me in the damn car.” 

“We’ll be good,” Bokuto giggles, raising his arms in surrender. 

“Out,” Tsukishima snarls and drags them both out of his bedroom. “I need to change into my swimsuit.” 

Bokuto casts a look over his shoulder as if hoping to catch Tsukishima in the act and simpers, “Hey, don’t let us stop you.”

“Oi, c’mon Kei. We were just teasing,” Kuroo drawls, his mouth quirked upwards as Tsukishima slams his bedroom door in their faces. 

~*~

Tsukishima returns, beach bag in hand, just in time to watch Yamaguchi prod sleepily into their living room

“Hey Tsukki, did you remember to pick up more milk?” Yamaguchi asks, his question muffled by a yawn as he rubs his eyes. He blinks rapidly as he notices Kuroo and Bokuto watching him. “You’re not Tsukki.” 

“Nope!” Bokuto replies, scratching the back of his neck as he sways forward on the heels of his feet. “You must be Freckle--- _Tadashi_.”

Yamaguchi looks between them curiously. He points at Bokuto. “Obnoxious owl. _Bokuto_.”

Bokuto’s face falls and he places a hand to his hip in agitation. “Hey!”

“And Kuroo, the sly one.”

Kuroo grins and puffs out his chest. “Guilty.”

Tsukishima huffs and nods his head towards the door. “Are we leaving now or not? I thought you two said we in a hurry.” 

“Don’t be so testy, Kei,” Kuroo chastises. They say goodbye to Yamaguchi and make their way towards the door. “We were just saying hello.” 

Tsukishima peers over his shoulder to give Yamaguchi a look that says _see what I put up with?_ , Yamaguchi snickers. 

_They’re cute,_ Yamaguchi mouths back in response. He waggles his eyebrows and gives Tsukishima two encouraging thumbs up. 

I need a new best friend, Tsukishima decides as he steers Bokuto and Kuroo out of his house. 

“Say, does Freckle-kun have freckles all the way down to his---“ 

“Leave Tadashi alone,” Tsukishima whispers roughly.

Kuroo arches an eyebrow at him. “He’s not our type,” he says reassuringly, as if Tsukishima needs to be reassured. As if Tsukishima’s jealous which--no. 

“It’s not Tadashi I’m worried about,” Tsukishima says defensively. His mouth falls open as he realizes how that sounds. 

Bokuto and Kuroo exchange another amused glance. Their silent communication is really starting to tick Tsukishima off.

“Aww Glass-kun, you don’t have to worry,” Bokuto coos. “We only have eyes for you, after all.” 

Tsukishima groans. 

~*~

Kuroo and Bokuto spend most the car ride to the beach arguing over which radio station to play. Eventually they settle on a station and Tsukishima discovers that Kuroo and Bokuto know the lyrics of almost all the songs that are played and even when they don’t, Kuroo and Bokuto sing along enthusiastically, acting out the lyrics even as Akaashi asks Bokuto _again_ to keep his eyes on the road. Tsukishima’s grateful by the time they reach the beach. 

Upon arriving, Akaashi chooses a spot on the beach that’s partially shaded by the cover of nearby trees. 

“So Tsukishima,” Akaashi starts as he sets down his towel onto the wavy sand. He presses down the corners of his towel. Kenma uses one arm to shield his screen from the glint of the sun as he squints up at his DS. “Bokuto and Kuroo managed to wrestle you into a friendship with them even after you escaped them that night at the club.”

“It would appear so.” 

“It’s not too late for you, you know,” Akaashi confides, his tone serious as he leans in and whispers loudly. “You can still break free.” 

Tsukishima snorts and Bokuto squawks indignantly. 

“A- _kaa_ -shiiii,” Bokuto wails. “Kuroo and I can _hear_ you!”

Akaashi rolls his eyes as if to say, ‘that was the point.’ “They’re impossible to shake. I should know, I’ve been trying for years,” Akaashi continues. “Get out while you still can, Tsukishima.” 

“It might be,” Tsukishima says, tilting his head to the side in consideration. “They’re starting to grow on me, I think,” he adds, as if Bokuto and Kuroo aren’t listening in on the conversation with matching expressions of annoyance. 

Akaashi smirks knowingly. 

Bokuto reaches over and claps Tsukishima on the back. “See! Tsukki likes us.” 

_You know, on second thought, nevermind_ Tsukishima thinks with a scowl as he shoves Bokuto off of him, his ears burning at the endearment. “Don’t call me Tsukki.” 

“So the name’s reserved for Freckle-kun, then?” Kuroo asks. Kuroo lifts an eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbow as he leans his cheek against his palm. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

“Then don’t,” Tsukishima replies simply. He folds his arms across his chest and pointedly ignores the Bokuto’s and Kuroo’s curious glances. 

“You know, I once tried to kiss Akaashi in high school,” Bokuto admits. He reaches down and curls his fingers around his bare feet. “He hit me in the face with a volleyball.” 

Akaashi doesn’t look the least bit sorry. 

“Pudding head and I have always been close,” Kuroo says. A soft smile plays on his lips as he looks down at Kenma. “Never like that, though.”

Kenma frowns. “We’re practically siblings.” 

“Could we talk about something else?” Tsukishima scowls. “Literally anything that isn’t our love lives, for example.” 

Kenma wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, his face flushed from the heat as he shifts closer to Akaashi in search of shade.

“Summer’s too warm,” Kenma huffs quietly. 

Akaashi nods in agreement and fists his hands in the back of his t-shirt before tugging it over his shoulders. 

Kenma lets out strangled noise, his cheeks turning red. His hands go limp and he drops his DS onto his face. 

A crease forms between Akaashi’s brows as he surges forward to help Kenma. “Are you alright?” 

Bokuto and Kuroo puff out their cheeks and press their lips together in an attempt to stifle their laughter as Kenma tries to roll away from a bare chested, startled Akaashi. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Akaashi demands. 

“Akaashi, leave Pudding head alone,” Kuroo says. “You’re going to give the poor guy a heart attack.”

Tsukishima empathizes, though. Without Tsukishima’s consent, his gaze is constantly drawn to Kuroo and Bokuto. He’d watch with rapt attention as Bokuto licks his upper lip or as Kuroo cards his fingers through his hair, unconsciously trying to smoothen out his mussed hairstyle. It's unfair, really, the way Kuroo’s red swim trunks hang too low on his hips, revealing the curve of his hipbones. Tsukishima’s already committed their shape to memory. 

The sight of Bokuto’s shoulder blades is another form of torture that Tsukishima hadn’t anticipated. More than once, he imagines what it’d be like to trace his fingers along Bokuto’s back, to feel the rigid contours of muscle beneath his palms. 

There's too much bare skin. Surely it must be their single minded goal to make Tsukishima suffer. If so, they're succeeding spectacularly. Not that he'd ever admit that to either of them. Tsukishima blames the smoldering heat for messing with his head. His palms feels clammy and he wipes them off on the fabric of his shorts. 

“Are _you_ okay, Kei? You’re looking a little feverish, too,” Kuroo says, pulling Tsukishima from his thoughts. 

Tsukishima glances over to see Akaashi desperately holding out a water bottle to Kenma who is still sputtering. Tsukishima shakes his head. “I’m fine. Just need to cool down.” 

Kuroo narrows his eyes at Tsukishima but then shrugs and turns his attention back to Akaashi and Kenma. 

~*~

Tsukishima wonders how long he’s been asleep for as he tugs down his headphones and drapes them around his neck. It’s still sunny out, which means Tsukishima can’t have missed much.

Kuroo stands back gives a low whistle of admiration at the sandcastle Akaashi and Kenma built. It’s a simple design: a sturdy base with four towers and spiral staircase leading to its entrance. It’s nothing like the shapeless blob Tsukishima would have produced had he offered to help.

Kenma smiles tentatively. 

“Not nearly as impressive as this, though,” says Kuroo, gesturing to a snoring Bokuto. Kuroo had piled the sand together around Bokuto’s thighs to give him a long fish tail. 

“You’ve buried Bokuto,” Akaashi intones. “You made Bokuto into a sand mermaid.” 

Kuroo nods enthusiastically and flicks Bokuto on the nose. “Wake up, babe. You’re going to burn your face if you keep falling asleep in the sun.” 

Bokuto stretches his arms as his eyes flutter open. He reaches down to pat himself on the chest but ends up groping a mound of sand instead. “Dude.” 

Kuroo snickers as Bokuto cups his hands around the small circles of sand meant to be his breasts. 

Bokuto frowns. “These are kind of small, don’t you think?” 

“I thought they were cute,” Kuroo answers defensively. 

Bokuto shakes his head in dismay, clearly wronged by Kuroo’s portrayal. “I’d be way bustier than this if I were a mermaid.” 

Kuroo gapes at him. “Shit, you’re right.”

Akaashi sighs. “Oh, for the love of _god_ you two.”

“We should go swimming,” Tsukishima offers. He slides on the swimming goggles his brother gave him. 

“That’s a great idea!” Bokuto beams. “I think I might have sand in my—“

“W-what are those?” Kuroo sputters, gesturing to Tsukishima’s goggles. Tsukishima watches in annoyance as Kuroo clutches at his stomach as tears gather in his eyes. He throws his head back and gasps in between the bouts of manic laughter. 

“He looks like a hyena when he laughs,” Tsukishima notes as he adjusts his glasses. 

Akaashi and Kenma nod in agreement. “And he bleats like a goat,” Akaashi adds. 

Kuroo abruptly stops laughing. He wipes his eyes and sighs happily. “You’re dicks. All three of you.” 

“These,” Tsukishima says slowly, tightening the strap of his goggles, “are prescription swimming goggles.” 

“You’re going to have the worst tan lines, _Tsukki_ ,” Kuroo says as he leaps to his feet. His lips curl into a smirk as he flexes his fingers against the fabric of his shorts. “Last one in the water has to share their bento,” he yells before breaking into sprint towards the water. 

“I’m still buried,” Bokuto complains. 

“Hey!” Akaashi barks out as he pulls Kenma to his feet. He gestures to Kenma’s inflatable raft. “Kenma can’t swim,”

“Not my problem!” Kuroo calls back, his toes already touching the water. 

Tsukishima breathes noisily through his nose. He buries his iPod beneath his bag and chases after Kuroo.

~*~

They spend the rest of the afternoon swimming, the sun beating down on them as Kuroo and Bokuto swat at each other with their pool noodles. It’s not long before that escalates and Kuroo and Bokuto are blowing out long arcs of water through the devices, straight into each other’s faces or Tsukishima’s whenever he drifts too close. 

Akaashi frequently shoots Bokuto and Kuroo looks of disapproval as he pulls Kenma around on his raft, tugging the boy around in small circles as Kenma crouches on his knees. Kenma faintly reminds Tsukishima of a cat that’s afraid of getting its hair wet.

“I guess we should be returning you to Freckle-kun soon, huh?” Bokuto asks as a he runs his hand through his damp hair. It’s matted down; his white wisps of hair nearly subdued by the weight of the water as he shoots Tsukishima a cheeky grin. “What with your curfew and all.” 

“I don’t have a curfew,” Tsukishima protests. He doesn’t even bother reminding Bokuto that ‘Freckle-kun’ has a name. Even so, his hands are beginning to prune, so he quietly follows Bokuto and Kuroo back to land. 

They pack up their things and Kenma claims the back seat, just as he had before. Akaashi’s about to climb in after Kenma when Kuroo leans down and says, “Seems like you and Kenma had a good time today.” 

The tips of Akaashi’s ears turn pink but otherwise he seems unfazed. “I enjoy Kenma’s company,” Akaashi replies with a short shrug. 

“It’s good that he has you,” Kuroo says, sounding sincere as he pauses. “To play video games with, to help him apply _sun screen_.” 

Now Akaashi looks appropriately flustered. “K-Kenma has sensitive skin!” Akaashi hisses. He elbows Kuroo in the stomach and shoulders past him. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto yells. “Everyone in the car. I wanted to head out before it gets dark, remember?” 

~*~

When Tsukishima gets home he realizes almost immediately that he’s tired. Tsukishima flops down onto his bed, grunting softly when the mattress squeaks beneath him. His wet hair leaves imprints on the pillow as he turns. Tsukishima makes a noise of frustration as he also realizes that he’s painfully hard. He stares down at his crotch dejectedly as he wonders how long he’s been like that. 

Tsukishima closes his eye and shifts his hips as he stubbornly waits for the heat pooling just below his stomach to recede. Instead, Tsukishima’s traitorous mind conjures the image of Bokuto draped over him, Bokuto’s golden eyes sharp and intense as he trails his callused fingers down Tsukishima’s chest, along the inner side of Tsukishima’s thigh, just above Tsukishima’s hip. Tsukishima’s lips parts on a sigh, his hips jerking on their own accord as he imagines the weight of Bokuto against him, pinning him in place, pressing him against the mattress. 

Tsukishima swallows thickly reaches forward over his bedside table for his hand lotion and lotions his trembling hands. Without hesitation, he slicks his palms and settles back into his bed. 

“Ah, fuck,” Tsukishima hisses as he dips his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. 

_This is happening. This is---_

He bites his lower lip and gasps as he wraps his hand around himself. “Ha- Koutarou,” Tsukishima moans, his chest heaving with each breath as he pictures Bokuto—the other boy’s face flushed and earnest as he presses eager kisses to the curve of Tsukishima’s neck. 

Tsukishima grips himself harder, digging his nails into his thigh as the image of Bokuto suddenly blurs into Kuroo. 

His skin feels impossibly hot and Tsukishima knows it’s not just from spending the day in the sun. Still, Tsukishima wants to blame Kuroo and Bokuto for the way his heart speeds up, for the tightness in this chest and the flood of warm the spreads through him as he pants Kuroo’s name and pumps himself faster, his cock twitching in his hand as he clutches at his sheets. 

Tsukishima’s makes a choked off sound, his whole body tensing as he strokes himself faster now, imagining Kuroo’s hand curling around his own, guiding him through it. He imagines both their mouths on him, the two of them whispering lewd promises into his ear, telling him again how they’ll take care of him, how they’ll make it _good_ \--

“Come for us,” he hears them say, their gazes fixed on Tsukishima as he shivers. 

Tsukishima clenches his eyes shut, his legs quivering as he spills into his hand. When he comes, he presses his face into his pillow to smother the noise. 

Head finally clear, Tsukishima rolls over and stares up at his ceiling in horror. His lower lip feels raw and swollen from trying to stifle the pitiful sounds he’d made and his breaths are rough and ragged. There’s a sheen of sweat gathering on Tsukishima’s forehead as he wonders if he’ll even be able to look at Bokuto and Kuroo again after this. 

Tsukishima just got off to imagining Bokuto _and_ Kuroo. Together—as in. Crap. 

“Oh, shit,” Tsukishima whispers into the darkness of his bedroom. He buries his face in his pillow and wishes desperately for the sweet release of either sleep or death, whichever finds him first.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi drops the 'P' word and Tsukishima sweats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: the following contains scenes of drunken (thus dubious) make out sessions also some heavy PDA - emphasis on the P. It also contains what could be construed as infidelity so fair warning if that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable. It's important to note though that this fic isn't meant to be a love triangle! give me ot3 or give me nothing~ so just hang in there, yeah?

“You’re brooding,” Yamaguchi says matter-of-factly.

Tsukishima squawks and nearly drops his controller onto his lap. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Yamaguchi insists. He pauses their game and arches his brow in skepticism. “Last week you we practically _beaming_ you were so happy.”

Tsukishima opens his mouth to protest again but Yamaguchi silences him with a firm look. 

“You were constantly smiling at your phone,” Yamaguchi says, referring to the _subtle_ twitch of Tsukishima’s lips whenever he’d read a text or receive a picture from Bokuto and Kuroo. “But you’ve been quiet and moody since you last hung out with them.” He doesn’t specify who ‘them’ is, but Tsukishima understands anyhow. 

Tsukishima silently vows to never challenge Yamaguchi to a poker match. Clearly, his best friend knows too many of his tells. 

Tsukishima blinks rapidly, hoping that Yamaguchi doesn’t notice the way his gaze flickers to the phone beside him for what’s probably the fifteenth time that hour. He feigns innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Did something happen?” Yamaguchi asks quietly, ignoring Tsukishima’s lie entirely. He looks torn between concern and impatience. “Tsukki?”

Scowling deeply, Tsukishima lifts his shirt before curling his hand in the fabric and rubbing small circles against the frames of his glasses. “No.” 

Yamaguchi makes a noise of annoyance and raises his hand to smoothen out his ever-present cowlick. “Tsukki,” he presses. 

Still not meeting Yamaguchi’s pointed gaze, Tsukishima hunches over and weakly supplies, “It’s complicated.” 

Yamaguchi leans forward and jabs a finger at Tsukishima’s chest. “Then un-complicate it. Whatever it is, fix it before it’s too late.” 

“How do you know it’s _my_ fault?” Tsukishima demands.

“Because I know you,” he singsongs, sticking his tongue out when Tsukishima gives him a withering look. 

Tsukishima’s phone vibrates. 

“You gonna answer that?” Yamaguchi asks when Tsukishima makes no move to pick up the phone that’s buzzing noisily beside him. He looks between Tsukishima and the phone before waving his hand as if to say, _well, go on_. 

Tsukishima makes a show of sliding his thumb across the screen. He lifts the phone to his ear and pinches the bridge of his nose as he reads the caller ID. Bokuto. 

“Tsukki-kun!” a cheerful voice blares through the phone the moment Tsukishima answers. “We haven’t heard from you in _forever_.”

Tsukishima winces and holds the phone away from him to guard against loss of hearing. Out of the corner of his vision, he sees Yamaguchi mouth ‘fix it.’ 

“Oh? I’ve just been really busy, you know.” 

Yamaguchi snorts. 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!” Bokuto says before barking out a laugh, warm and jubilant. Tsukishima’s stomach twists into tight knots. “Anyways I’m calling to invite you to a party tonight. I know you don’t usually go to these things but we thought—“

Yamaguchi’s watching him expectantly, his large brown eyes stern and Tsukishima finds himself agreeing to go. 

“Okay?” Bokuto repeats in surprise. “You’ll come?”

“I—yeah, I’ll be there.” Shit. 

Tsukishima cringes and plugs his ears as Bokuto hollers and hoots happily on the other end. Bokuto texts him the details immediately after, followed by a long string of exclamation marks. 

“Are you happy now?” Tsukishima grumbles, glowering as he reaches over to un-pause their game. 

“Ecstatic,” Yamaguchi hums, ignoring how Tsukishima flips him off as he resumes playing. 

~*~

Tsukishima arrives 15 minutes late with an over-excitable Hinata in tow. 

“I can’t believe we’re at a senior party,” Hinata whispers loudly as he strides into the crowded house. 

_And I can’t believe you invited yourself_ , Tsukishima thinks. 

Hinata looks around and grins as he asks, “You know there won’t be any Trivial Pursuit, right?” 

There’s a group of people playing beer pong in the corner of the room, couples dancing close together in the living room and a few light weights already passed out on the couches. Kenma’s on the stairs, crouched over and petting the host’s cat. 

Tsukishima’s phone vibrates in his pocket and it’s safe to assume it’s either Kuroo or Bokuto, asking if he’s there yet. Ignoring the muffled thrumming of his phone, Tsukishima decides he doesn’t want to face them until he’s at least a little tipsy. 

“I need a drink,” Tsukishima announces, loud enough for Hinata to hear, even over the noise of the party. 

“Now you’re speaking my language,” Hinata says, making a beeline for the nearest keg. Even with his longer legs, Hinata’s impossibly fast and weaves easily through the crowd of University students. 

Tsukishima decides he’s glad Hinata tagged along after all as Hinata crouches down and drains a beer into two empty cups before offering one to Tsukishima. He’s even more grateful, later, when Hinata’s handing him his third shot—something gross that tastes faintly like mint and chocolate. The shorter boy pumps his fist in the air, calls out “Shot! Shot! Shot!” and grins wildly whenever Tsukishima indulges him. It’s not long before Tsukishima feels the beginnings of a buzz, his throat burning and his skin tingling with a familiar warmth as he sets the empty glass back down onto the kitchen counter. 

Smiling grimly, Tsukishima digs his phone out of his pocket and texts Kuroo. 

~*~

Kuroo and Bokuto find him a moment later. They stumble into the kitchen, their hands tucked into each other’s back pockets and their foreheads pressed together as they laugh. Tsukishima lowers his gaze, a flush spreading along the slope of his cheeks and down the curve of his neck at the intimate sight. It’s not the first time he’s seen them together like that, not by a long shot, but this time the sight makes his throat go dry and warmth pool below his stomach. 

Their raucous laughter tapers off as Bokuto lifts his chin from where he’d been nuzzling it against the crook of Kuroo’s neck. His face brightens as he detaches himself Kuroo and pulls Tsukishima into a crushing embrace. 

“We didn’t think you’d come,” Kuroo says as Bokuto releases Tsukishima. 

_I didn’t think I would either_ , Tsukishima nearly admits but he can tell they’ve been sulking, so instead he just smiles and presses his back against the counter. 

“And you started without us,” Bokuto says, jutting out his bottom lip in a childish display of disappointment as he nods at Tsukishima’s near empty cup. 

Tsukishima shrugs and moves away from the kitchen, hoping that they’ll follow. The last thing he needs is for them to meet Hinata—a tipsy Hinata, at that. “Couldn’t find you,” Tsukishima says, keeping his voice steady as he turns and faces them again. 

Kuroo and Bokuto exchange looks of skepticism but after a moment, their expressions change. They give him matching lopsided smiles as they each loop an arm around one of his shoulders. 

Kuroo licks his lips and says, “I guess it couldn’t be helped then.” 

Tsukishima frowns at the weight of the two of them hanging off of him. 

“Tsu- _kki_ ,” Bokuto whines, his eyes going lidded as his hand slides down and then rests on the small of Tsukishima’s back. _“Play with us.”_

“What—”

Kuroo’s warm breath fans against Tsukishima’s neck as he leans in close and murmurs, “Let’s do body shots.”

Tsukishima squeezes his lips together in a belated move to suppress the whimper that escapes him. Kuroo and Bokuto’s smirks deepen and he can’t help but feeling like _prey_. He swallows as he feels fingers—Kuroo’s maybe?—tracing circles across the blades of his shoulder then travelling lower with _intent_ before splaying them against the bare strip of skin where Tsukishima’s hoodie is riding up. It’s more obvious than anything they’ve done since Tsukishima met them. He’s torn between feeling as though he’s had too much to drink or too little. 

Bokuro and Kuroo each curl a finger through one of Tsukishima’s belt buckles and tug him closer so that he’s pressed flush against them. 

“Or how about never have I ever?” Bokuto suggests, his smile sharp and curved as he dips his broad hand lower. “I’ll start. Never have I ever _wanted_ a friend.” 

Kuroo snorts. “Bo, wouldn’t you have to drink too?” 

“Oh?” Bokuto flutters his eyelashes in feigned innocence. “Guess you’re right.” 

Withdrawing his hand from Tsukishima’s back, Bokuto ducks his head and grabs Tsukishima’s cup, easily snatching it from his slackened grip. Lifting the cup to lips, Bokuto traces his tongue along the rim as he fixes the other boy with a steady gaze. He tips his head back, not breaking eye contact as he drinks. 

Tsukishima inhales sharply as he watches the bob of Bokuto’s throat. His head feels hazy and he has to lean back against Kuroo for support. “Uh.” 

Bokuto smacks his lips together and announces, “Indirect kiss!” He holds out the empty cup. 

“Looks like you need a refill,” Kuroo says, snatching the cup from Bokuto. He spins it in his palm and glances between Bokuto and Tsukishima contemplatively. “I’ll get it. Did you need anything, Bo?” 

Bokuto shakes his head and Kuroo leaves the two of them standing alone together. 

“Can I talk to you?” Tsukishima asks, nearly yelling over the heavy thrum of the music. “Alone, I mean.” 

Bokuto blinks at him, surprised, but he gives Tsukishima a sharp nod and threads their fingers together before guiding him onto the balcony. There are a few people smoking outside, but they’re not paying attention and Bokuto puts enough space between them and the others that Tsukishima doesn’t have to worry about behind overheard. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Shoot.” Tsukishima interprets that as ‘go for it.’ 

“When did you first know you were in love with Kuroo?”

Bokuto stares at him, his mouth falling open then snapping shut again. A crease forms between his brows as he frowns at the question. 

“I mean,” Tsukishima tries again, “was it in an instant thing or did it happen gradually?”

Bokuto hums thoughtfully and taps his fingers against the balcony railing. “When, huh? It wasn’t love at first sight or anything, if that’s what you’re asking. Bro at first sight, maybe!”

Tsukishima wrinkles his nose, his glasses pushed upwards as he contemplates dropping the subject. He feels stupid for even asking. 

“Nevermind,” Tsukishima mutters and turns to the sliding door. But before he cold leave, Bokuto tugs on their entwined hands, pulling Tsukishima back so that their knees are touching. 

Raising his hand to Tsukishima’s cheek, Bokutocups Tsukishima’s face in his hands,absently stroking his thumb against the curve of Tsukishima’s jaw. “Wasn’t finished yet,” Bokuto murmurs, his mouth twisting into a smile as he studies Tsukishima’s face. “It wasn’t love, not at first. And it wasn’t any one thing that made me fall for him. Just like, a bunch of small things. If you’re asking when I knew for sure... Well, it’s kind of stupid really.

“We were taking the train to visit Kenma during the end of our second year and Kuroo had his head on my shoulder. I remember looking down at this ridiculous, doting, _stubborn_ , dork and thinking _holy fuck I’m in love with this asshole, aren’t I?_. So I told him. And Kuroo kissed me and said it back. I sort of just knew I wanted to spend my life with him,” Bokuto says, laughing breathlessly as he shakes his head. 

Tsukishima scowls, his fingers tightening with Bokuto’s. “Aren’t you worried, though?” he presses. “There’s no guarantee your relationship will last. Many don’t. What if Kuroo ends up working in a different city? What if one of you falls out of love? The divorce rate in Japan is—”

Bokuto’s eyebrows climb upwards, his gold widening as he blinks owlishly at Tsukishima. 

“I just--why bother?” Tsukishima finishes as he clenches his free hand into a tight fist. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Bokuto’s eyes narrow as he makes a clucking noise with his tongue. “It’s true, love doesn’t have ‘guarantees,’ Tsukki. But if you meet the right person or uh, _persons_ , there will come a moment of clarity where you realize that it’s worth it. I know it can seem terrifying but hell, anything that doesn’t scare the shit out you—anything that doesn’t hurt at least a little— isn’t worth doing.” 

“That’s stupid,” Tsukishima retorts, his eyes cold and steely even as he draws closer to Bokuto. 

Bokuto brushes his thumb over Tsukishima’s and their gazes dart down to where their hands are still connected. Bokuto tilts his head curiously, crowding closer as he arches a wing-like eyebrow. Tsukishima can sense that Bokuto’s hesitant now; Bokuto’s flush caused by more than just the alcohol as he ducks his head shyly and holds his breath, waiting for Tsukishima to signal consent. In a moment of recklessness, Tsukishima fists his free hand in Bokuto’s collar and closes the already miniscule space between them, pressing his mouth against Bokuto’s lips.

Bokuto responds immediately, making a muffled noise of surprise as his lips slide enthusiastically over Tsukishima’s own. His lips curve into a smile against Tsukishima’s mouth as he tilts his head so that their foreheads touch. 

In theory, Tsukishima knows a fair amount about kissing. He knows that when you kiss, you use 146 muscles. 24 of which are facial muscles and 112 of which are postural muscles. He knows that the science of kissing is called philematology, that kissing causes the brain to release dopamine, and that two thirds of people tilt their heads to the right when they do it. 

What Tsukishima doesn’t know is what he’s supposed to do with his damn hands... Or how much tongue is the right amount. He guesses a lot, but this must be wrong as Bokuto pulls back with a chuckle, rubbing his own spit-slick lips with the back of his hand as he steadies Tsukishima. 

“Woah there, eager beaver,” Bokuto grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth and Tsukishima sort of wants to punch him. Bokuto winces, realizing his mistake, and curls his lips into a sheepish smile. “Sorry! I just—let me?”

Tsukishima nods hesitantly, still tense as Bokuto twines his fingers in the fringe of Tsukishima’s blond hair and wraps his other hand around Tsukishima’s waist. He catches Tsukishima’s mouth with his own, coaxing a groan from Tsukishima as he drags his tongue along the seam of his lips. Bokuto tightens his grip on Tsukishima’s waist as he takes control of the kiss. A shiver works its way down Tsukishima’s spine, his pulse hammering in his ears as Bokuto sucks Tsukishima’s lower lip between his teeth. 

Bokuto moves against Tsukishima with practiced skill as he presses his weight against him, wedging his knee between the gap of Tsukishima’s thighs before swirling his tongue in a way that makes Tsukishima gasp and his eyes flutter shut. When he opens them, he finds Bokuto watching him, Bokuto’s irises swallowed by darkness he drops his head and presses quick but rough kisses to the column of Tsukishima’s neck, his jugular, his collar, his shoulder. 

Following Bokuto’s lead, Tsukishima guides Bokuto’s mouth back to his and sucks gently on Bokuto’s tongue, internally preening as the gasp of pleasure that it draws from the other boy as he ducks his head and deepens the kiss. It feels electric and Tsukishima’s whole body jolts as Bokuto grinds against him, his grip on Tsukishima’s hip almost tight enough to bruise. Logically, Tsukishima understands the science of it. Knows about dopamine and endorphins and oxytocin. This— _kissing_ —is addictive. Tsukishima’s more than a little drunk with it, his head swimming as Bokuto ruts their hips together. By the time they pull apart, they’re both panting and half hard. 

“You should grow your hair out,” Bokuto says, his voice wavering as he curls his fingers tighter in Tsukishima’s hair. Tsukishima resists the insecure impulse to fix the abused tufts. 

Tsukishima keeps his expression carefully blank. “Thanks for advice,” he says in a deadpan tone. It’s obvious what Bokuto’s trying to say, that he’d like something to _pull_ on but Bokuto’s grinning furiously now and Tsukishima would love to take him down a peg or five. 

Bokuto laughs and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he reaches up and musses Tsukishima’s hair again. “You know, you hair would look even better in my _lap_.”

Tsukishima’s eye twitches. “Do those lines usually work for you?” 

“Hey! I’ll have you know my lines have a 100% success rate,” Bokuto declares proudly and Tsukishima’s forehead creases so heavily that his glasses slide down the slope of his nose. Tsukishima’s dubious even as he leans in to kiss Bokuto again, both to shut him up and to kiss the stupid smile off his face but his glasses bump against Bokuto’s nose. 

“Wait, hold on a sec.” Bokuto tilts his head (to the left, Tsukishima notes) and raises his hand and to push Tsukishima’s glasses upwards until they’re perched on the top of his head. “Better.” 

Tsukishima smirks. “Aren’t you going to tell me I look _pretty_ without my glasses?” he murmurs, his tone mocking as he flutters his eyelashes coyly. 

“Nah. You always look pretty,” Bokuto says as his hand slips just below the waistband of Tsukishima’s jeans. Tsukishima’s cock twitches in interest and his hand tightens where it’s still clenched in the front of the other boy’s shirt. Sensing Tsukishima’s frustration, he drops his hand lower and kneads Tsukishima’s cock through the thin fabric of his underwear. 

“God, Tsukki,” Bokuto says against Tsukishima’s open mouth. “You feel so fucking good.” 

Tsukishima’s snickers morph into moans as Bokuto places a firm pressure against his crotch. He hooks his finger in the collar of Tsukishima’s shirt, tugging it down before pressing a bruising kiss to the exposed skin. The scrape of Bokuto’s teeth teases a sharp gasp from Tsukishima. 

“Don’t be rude,” Bokuto chastises as he nuzzles his nose against Tsukishima’s throat. Tsukishima’s legs buckle and he lets go of Bokuto to clutch onto the railing behind him for support. 

He’s about to make a snide remark when the balcony door slides open, revealing a short redhead. Hinata. Tsukishima curses and drops his head against Bokuto’s shoulder. “Tsukishima?” Hinata calls, squinting at them under the dim light of the balcony. 

“Oh,” Hinata gasps as he takes in the sight of them. Hinata claps his hands to his cheeks and Tsukishima would laugh at the dramatic display if this whole situation was any less humiliating. Tsukishima can only imagine what he looks like at this point: a shameful picture of debauchery with his glasses askew on his forehead and his lips red and swollen from kissing. Bokuto hasn’t withdrawn his hand from Tsukishima’s pants. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to do another shot but clearly you’re busy! So I’ll just—“

Hinata flails and reaches for the sliding door to slide it shut again, as if Tsukishima and Bokuto were just going to carry on as if they hadn’t been interrupted and then come in their pants like teenagers on some stranger’s balcony. The ridiculousness of that situation alone has Tsukishima pulling himself from Bokuto and sliding his elbow in between the closing doors before Hinata retreats. 

“Hinata wait,” Tsukishima hisses. “We’re leaving. Call Tadashi and ask him to drive us home.”

Hinata looks confused but shrugs his shoulders anyway. 

“But you just got here,” Bokuto mopes, his eyes growing wide with disbelief as he reaches for Tsukishima’s sleeve. Tsukishima wrenches out of his grasp. “Wait. Don’t.” 

Tsukishima turns his head to the side, meeting Bokuto’s gaze as he looks down at him. “About tonight. We shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.” 

His stomach churns in guilt as he watches Bokuto’s face crumble, Bokuto’s hands curling into tight fists at his side. Tsukishima’s messed things up before with his inappropriate feelings but never this spectacularly. To ruin his friendship with them was one thing but to come between Kuroo and Bokuto was unforgivable. How much would this singular lapse in judgment cost both Bokuto and Tsukishima? Bokuto’s eyes are wide and pleading and Tsukishima wants to _stay_ , to press soothing kisses against Bokuto’s forehead, his knuckles, his jaw, his neck. But he’s already caused enough damage so instead he nods curtly and follows Hinata into the house. 

~*~

“Woohoo get some, Kei!” Hinata cheers, deafeningly loud when Bokuto’s still within hearing distance. He curls his hand into a fist and holds it out to Tsukishima, waiting for him to bump their knuckles together. Unperturbed when Tsukishima doesn’t, Hinata wrestles Tsukishima’s hand from his hoodie’s pocket and forcibly slaps their hands together. “Hell yeah!” 

“It wasn’t— don’t. Okay?” Tsukishima sighs as Hinata hums loudly and texts Yamaguchi. 

Hinata looks up at him from the side. “You know, you’re weirdly cranky for someone who just got some.”

“Look, what you saw,” Tsukishima mumbles and trails off. He tries again. “Bokuto and I—“

Hinata nearly spills his drink down his shirt. “That was Bokuto?” he demands, blinking up at Tsukishima. “As in one of the hot guys from the bar? As in the same Bokuto who has been courting your grumpy ass for almost a _month_ now?”

Tsukishima doesn’t reply but Hinata takes his silence as affirmation. 

“And you just ditched him! You could actually hear his heart ripping like _gwahhhh_ ,” Hinata continues, miming the shredding action as he spreads his arms. 

“Shut up, Shouyou,” Tsukishima snaps. 

Hinata snickers and flips him off. 

~*~

“And then he said _‘I’m sorry, you’re just too perfect for me with your gorgeous face and beautiful muscles_ ,” Hinata tells Yamaguchi as they drive home, doing his best imitation of Tsukishima’s lower voice. 

“I didn’t say that!” Tsukishima yells, reaching back from the passenger seat to flick Hinata’s forehead. 

Hinata ignores him and enthusiastically continues his rendition of the night’s events. “Because I’m Tsukishima and I’m just a jerk like that. Also, I’ve got a giant stick lodged up my—“

“He has a boyfriend,” Tsukishima counters loudly, his hands curling into fists.

Hinata makes a noise of derision and thrashes his legs against the back of Tsukishima’s seat. “Uh, yeah. A boyfriend who is _equally_ into you! And you think _I’m_ dense. It’s like the universe is smiling upon you and you’re just—ugh. Nothing is fair.”

Tsukishima goes quiet and doesn’t say anything again until Yamaguchi’s dropped Hinata off. He digs his fingers into the seat and frowns as Yamaguchi studies Tsukishima’s face in the reflection of his mirror. 

Tsukishima folds his arms across his chest and grits, “Hinata’s being an idiot, like always, right?” 

Yamaguchi shrugs, his smile apologetic as he taps his thumbs against the steering wheel. 

“You agree with him.” Tsukishima sulks, feeling slightly betrayed.

His best friend brings the car to a stop, and he can tell this is only the beginning of the conversation. And he’s right, like always, because there’s no way he isgetting out of the car until Yamaguchi gets some damn answers. 

“Well I don’t _dis_ agree with him. You are being a bit…how would you put it? Obtuse?” Yamaguchi sighs when Tsukishima doesn’t reply. “Look, you enjoyed being with Bokuto, right?”

Tsukishima nods, his eyes narrowing as he tries to follow Yamaguchi’s line of questioning. 

“And Kuroo. Would you want him to kiss you, too?” 

He flinches at the thought. Bokuto. Kuroo. Tsukishima fidgets and draws his long legs up to his chest. “I guess so,” he admits slowly. 

“Have you ever gotten like... a warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach when you think of either of them? Do you ever imagine yourself doing couple-y sort of things with him? Does your heart ever speed up whenever you’re around them?” Yamaguchi asks excitedly and he leans in with a triumphant look on his face. 

Tsukishima nods again. 

“Which? Bokuto or _Kuroo_?” 

He grimaces at the question. “I—both of them?” 

Yamaguchi snaps his fingers and beams. “Exactly! You have feelings for _both_ of them,” he explains. “And they _both_ want you. They’ve been sort of obvious about it, honestly. I mean the flirting. The movies. The pictures. The coffee dates,” Yamaguchi says, counting it off on his fingers. “When was the last time you even paid for your own food?” 

Tsukishima wrinkles his nose. 

“Have you ever heard of polyamory?”

“Obviously,” Tsukishima snaps. “It’s the practice or condition of participating simultaneously in more than one serious romantic or sexual relationship.” 

Yamaguchi presses his lips together, struggling not to laugh at Tsukishima’s perfect recitation of the dictionary. “Right,” he says, both his eyebrows arched as he stares at Tsukishima expectantly. 

“So? What does polyamory have to do with—oh,” Tsukishima says, his face flushed bright red. He hadn't realized that he could _want_ \- that he could actually _have_ \- “Oh.” It suddenly occurs to Tsukki that he’s been an idiot.

“You’re not selfish for being interested in both of them. You know that, right? So long as everyone involved is happy and consenting, it’s perfectly okay,” Yamaguchi says, sounding suspiciously like someone who has done some research on the topic. 

“Did you bring a pamphlet?” Tsukishima asks, suddenly feeling vulnerable. 

Yamaguchi snorts. “Why? Did you want one?” 

“No.” 

Silences falls between them and for a blissful moment Tsukishima thinks that’s the end of the conversation when Yamaguchi suddenly says, “So, when are you going to ask them out?” 

Tsukishima rubs his fingers against the crease of his forehead as he remembers the night’s events. “Never, probably. I’m pretty sure I already fucked that up.” 

Yamaguchi pats his knee consolingly. “If they’re half as gone for you as I think they are, I’m sure there’s still time to fix it. Just stop running from them.” Yamaguchi pauses, holding Tsukishima’s gaze as he smiles encouragingly. “And tell them how you feel.” 

He wants to argue that confessions have never worked out well for him but Yamaguchi’s giving him the thumbs’ up again, his smile warm and reassuring and Tsukishima doesn’t want to disappointment him. “I’ll try,” Tsukishima promises, because it’s the best he can do. 

His phone chimes in his pocket. Tsukishima swallows thickly as he reads the text. 

**From Kuroo:** we need to talk 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are a youth or an innocent, please skip this chapter. So much smut ahead. (note: this is not the last chapter. This is the PWP my brain spilled out when fluff was supposed to happen.)

Tsukishima waits a full day before confronting them and it’s getting dark by the time he finally makes his way over. Now that he’s standing outside their door, he regrets wearing so many layers. He’s sweating through his undershirt, long sleeved shirt and cardigan and his hands feel clammy as he wrings them. He exhales shakily, trying to calm himself as he paces. With another long sigh, Tsukishima raises his fist to the door and knocks. 

After a moment, the door pushes open, but only wide enough that Bokuto can peek his head through the door and peer up at Tsukishima curiously. “Oh. Tsukki? You didn’t tell us you were coming,” Bokuto chirps happily, pushing the door open the rest of the way so that Tsukishima can move past him. 

Tsukishima lifts his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug and glances around Bokuto and Kuroo’s shared apartment. It’s a little messy, with takeout boxes piled up on their living room table, magazines stacked haphazardly and discarded clothes sprawled across their couch, but it’s not the disaster he was expecting either. Kuroo’s slouching against the arm of their sofa, standing in front of it with his arms folded across his chest as he nods at Tsukishima in a silent greeting. 

“You wanted to talk,” Tsukishima reminds him, hoping he sounds braver than he feels. 

Kuroo nods again as both and Bokuto draw closer until there’s hardly any space between them and Tsukishima. “So I did.” 

“Look, about yesterday—about the kiss,” Tsukishima says, stepping backwards until his back is pressed flat against the door. He knows Bokuto’s already told Kuroo, can tell from how Bokuto’s eyes flit nervously between them. “I didn’t mean to.” He cringes at his wording. “I mean—I meant to kiss him, obviously. But I didn’t mean to come between you two. Or for it to fuck things up between _us_.” 

Neither of them says anything and Tsukishima grows anxious waiting for a response. “Okay, well... This has been a good talk,” he says stiffly and turns on his heel to leave. Bokuto catches him by the sleeve. 

“Wait! Damn it, stop doing that,” Bokuto hisses and yanks him back, causing Tsukishima to stumble, his back colliding with Bokuto’s chest. “Would it kill you to just stay put for a moment?” 

_It might_ , Tsukishima thinks. When things get difficult, his instinct is to quit or run, or both. The prospect of sticking around has him scraping his teeth against his bottom lip in frustration. Reluctantly, he nods at Bokuto then turns to nod at Kuroo as well. “Fine.” He grits between clenched teeth. 

“Relax, Tsukki. I won’t bite,” Kuroo says, his face unreadable as he leans forward, inching further into Tsukishima’s space. 

Tsukishima squints at him. “Aren’t you pissed at me?” 

“Depends.” Kuroo cages Tsukishima in with his arms, looking impossibly tall, even though they’re nearly the same height. Kuroo’s expression is carefully composed and guarded as he tilts his chin up. “You know what we want. You _must_ by now. But what do _you_ want, Kei? Is it Koutarou?” His voice drops to a low whisper. “Do you want to take him from me?”

Tsukishima almost wants to laugh, a tight fist coiling around his heart at the thought of settling for anything _less_ than the two of them. His throat goes dry as he remembers the sensation of Bokuto’s fingers skating along his back, of Bokuto’s lips sliding against his own. He wants that, but it’s not _enough_ , either. 

They’re both staring at him expectantly and there’s an endless list of things Tsukishima would rather do than discuss his own _feelings_ but the alternative, the possibility of not having either of them is horrid enough that it has Tsukishima forcing out a “No” through clenched teeth. He shakes his head. There’s no way out of this besides honesty, not with them. “That’s not it. I want—I want you.” Tsukishima turns to the side, his face burning as he reaches out to catch Bokuto’s hand. He squeezes it tightly before returning his gaze to Kuroo. The other boy stiffens and clenches his jaw, but before he gets a chance to say anything, Tsukishima and laces his other hand with Kuroo’s. “And _you_ too, Tetsurou. If... if you’ll both have me.” 

He watches different show of emotions play across their faces, from disbelief to hesitation to relief. 

“Then I’m not upset,” Kuroo decides, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he tugs Tsukishima closer. 

“That’s uncharacteristically _generous_ of you,” Tsukishima points out. He narrows his eyes in suspicion as Kuroo curls his fingers around the collar of his shirt. 

Kuroo scoffs. “I’m always this kind. Besides, if it brought you to us, then I’m grateful. So long as I’m not excluded from future fun, yeah?” 

They watch each other for a moment longer, their eyes locked in a silent exchange. 

_’You can have this, you know. If you want us, we’re yours,’_ Kuroo’s eyes seem to say.

Tsukishima wants—

He wants this. Wants whatever they’re offering. Wants whatever they’ll allow him. He’s passed the point of denying it, to himself or to them. Even if it’s just ‘fun,’ or a ‘sex thing,’ he thinks, a ghost of a smirk twisting his lips as he remembers how he’d explained their first encounter to Tadashi. This— _sex_ —could be enough, if that’s how he fit into the equation. 

“Can I—can I kiss you?” Tsukishima asks shyly, his voice dropping to a whisper as he releases Bokuto’s hand then trails the tips of his fingers down Kuroo’s forearm. 

After a moment, Kuroo nods. He curls an arm around Tsukishima’s waist, his eyes fluttering shut as he closes the distance between them. Their lips press together gently, Kuroo’s lips only grazing his in a chaste kiss and his fingers twisting in the fabric of Tsukishima’s shirt before he’s pulling away again. 

“Wait,” Kuroo sighs. He exchanges a look with Bokuto. “This isn’t how we wanted to do this.” 

Tsukishima looks between them as he waits for an explanation. 

“We don’t want it to be _just_ this. The physical stuff, I mean.” Kuroo sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair, mussing it even further. “We want to take you on dates. We want you to join our movie night. _We want you to join our annual Christmas card_.”

“As a couple,” Bokuto clarifies. “Er, a trio?” 

“You two want to _date_ me?” Tsukishima waits for the punchline, the catch, the reality check. It doesn’t come. 

“Yes,” Kuroo and Bokuto say at the same time. 

“Oh.” Tsukishima takes a moment to respond, his brain still rebooting as he processes what’s being asked. He has little experience with getting what he wants, is instead too familiar with tucking away his disappointment and pretending he’s never expected anything to begin with. “I—sure. Yes. That’d be—yeah,” Tsukishima croaks, aiming for casualty as he lifts his hand to adjust his glasses. He internally curses his sudden lack to eloquence. 

Bokuto and Kuroo don’t seem bothered by it though, because they’re suddenly grinning broadly and tugging him into a tight embrace. 

“This calls for a celebration,” Bokuto declares, pumping his fist in the air. 

Kuroo murmurs in agreement and nuzzles his nose against the side of Tsukishima’s neck. “Takeout and movies?”

“Sounds perfect,” Tsukishima says. The corners of his lips twitching slightly as he lets them guide him into the living room and then tug him down onto the couch, onto the empty cushy seat between them.

~*~

“I should go home,” Tsukishima announces and yawns as he withdraws his arm from where he’d been resting it around Bokuto’s shoulder. It was getting late and if he’d have to hurry if he wants to catch the last train. Still, he’s reluctant to move. The popcorn bowl is perched on his lap and his other hand is threaded in Kuroo’s messy hair. He drags his fingers through Kuroo’s hair again, reveling in the long sigh of content that it draws from the other boy. 

Bokuto drops his head against Tsukishima’s shoulder, his lips dragging lightly against the exposed skin when he murmurs, “Stay.” 

“We want you to,” Kuroo adds and nuzzles his head against Tsukishima’s hand, pushing back into the firm strokes like the cat Tsukishima secretly suspects he is. 

Tsukishima looks between them for a moment, still unsure, but nods. “Okay.” He settles back against the couch and tries to suppress a grin as Kuroo and Bokuto both rest their head on his shoulder. 

~*~

“This is my favorite part!” Bokuto shares. He nudges Tsukishima in the ribs as he gestures enthusiastically to the movie. 

Tsukishima’s grateful that they let _him_ pick the movie for once, which meant the three of them curled together on the couch whilst watching Jurassic Park, but if Bokuto interrupts the movie one more time, Tsukishima’s probably going to throttle him. 

As if sensing Tsukishima’s irritation, Kuroo stops the movie. 

“He gets like this sometimes,” Kuroo explains. He points accusingly at Bokuto. “The best thing to do is just stop what you’re doing and _get this owl to shut his damn trap_.” 

Bokuto grins, sharp and devious, as he pulls up onto his knees and crouches over Tsukishima. “I’d like to see you try.” 

Kuroo accepts the challenge and surges forward, crashing their lips together. Tsukishima watches, dazed, his slack mouth falling open as Kuroo moves his lips over Bokuto’s. Kuroo’s hand drops to Tsukishima’s lap as they kiss in front of him, the two of them practically in his lap as Bokuto tilts his head up and fists his hands in Kuroo’s hair. 

“Jerk—”

Kuroo cups Bokuto’s face, squeezing Tsukishima’s thigh tightly as he captures Bokuto’s lips between his own and silences Bokuto with another forceful kiss. Bokuto parts his lips to accept Kuroo’s tongue, the two of them making loud, wet noises as they lick into each other’s mouths. They kiss like that for a while, their lips red and swollen when they pull back and nip at each other playfully. Meanwhile, Kuroo’s hand travels closer to Tsukishima’s crotch until his spindly fingers are suddenly curling against him. Tsukishima makes a strangled sound, his ears turning bright red as Kuroo and Bokuto freeze and glance down at him curiously. 

He knows without being told that he’s more than a little hard and that his pants are doing the bare minimum to hide it. His face heats up, his blood boiling beneath the surface of his skin as Bokuto and Kuroo’s eyes flit from his face to his crotch. 

“Oh.” Bokuto inhales sharply. 

Kuroo smirks and grips Tsukishima’s shirt as he lifts himself up and drops into Tsukishima’s lap. He maneuvers himself so that he’s straddling Tsukishima. 

“This ‘cause of us?” Kuroo purrs, and then Tsukishima’s choking back a desperate noise against the crook of Kuroo’s neck as the other boy slides his hand between them to cup Tsukishima’s dick through his jeans. “Is this okay?” Kuroo asks, as if he can’t read the desperation on Tsukishima’s face, as if the three of them hadn’t been ready to abandon pretense since he’d arrived over an hour ago. 

Tsukishima nods fervently. 

With Tsukishima’s assent, Kuroo brushes their lips together, steady and firm, before pressing forward and tracing his tongue against the seam of Tsukishima’s lips. Bokuto joins them, his kisses burning their way down Tsukishima’s neck and his broad, callused palm sliding beneath the hem of Tsukishima’s cardigan and two shirts as Kuroo tilts his hips in encouragement. It’s too much, Tsukishima decides, groaning involuntarily at the sensation of Bokuto nipping softly along the curve of his jaw and Kuroo placing pressure on his crotch, kneading his cock through the fabric of his jeans. 

“Can we move this elsewhere?” His voice is strained but Bokuto and Kuroo are breathing a little hard, the tips of their ears tinted bright red as they watch him with matching expressions of hunger, so neither of them is really in a position to judge. “Like the bedroom, maybe?” 

Bokuto grins broadly as he waggles his eyebrows at Tsukishima. “Oho? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

~*~

“Is this really happening?” Tsukishima asks, unsure if he’s speaking to himself or really searching for confirmation as Bokuto and Kuroo move over to make room for him on their mattress. It’s just barely large enough to fit the three of them and Tsukishima has to fold his knees to prevent from bumping against his boyfriends. 

Bokuto smiles reassuringly, his shoulder brushing against Tsukishima’s. “Unless you don’t want it to, then that’s cool too.” 

“I do,” Tsukishima insists. “But are you two sure you do? I mean, what am I even needed for when you have…well, each other?” Something rises high and tight in Tsukishima’s throat and a flush splotches his cheeks at having admitted what’s been gnawing at him. 

“Tsukki,” he hears as he averts his gaze, his eyes fixed instead on red the cotton sheets pooling around his knees. “Tsukki,” Kuroo tries again, his voice soft and pained as he touches Tsukishima’s arm, Kuroo’s fingers flexing against his. “We like you. You’re smart and snarky and handsome—and honestly, we think the glasses look really works for you.” 

Bokuto nods in confirmation. “And we _really_ like kissing you,” Bokuto adds earnestly.

“I—If you’re sure.” 

“God, yes. We’re sure. Fuck, absolutely positive. Can we just—” Groaning, Bokuto peels Tsukishima out of his cardigan and then reaches for the hem of Tsukishima’s long sleeved shirt, tugging it over Tsukishima’s shoulders before hastily tossing it across the room, presumably onto a large pile of other discarded clothes. 

Bokuto and Kuroo exchange a look of disbelief when they’re met with Tsukishima’s undershirt. 

“I’m all for a big reveal, but isn’t this sort of ridiculous?” Bokuto asks. He laughs soundlessly as Kuroo pushes Tsukishima down onto the mattress. 

“This had better be the last layer,” Kuroo mutters, his slender fingers deftly unbuttoning the undershirt while Tsukishima lifts his hips, trying to assist Bokuto gracelessly shuck his pants down past his thighs. Kuroo’s fingers pause when he reveals the small bruise from two nights ago now blossoming just below Tsukishima’s collar. “Feh. What the fuck, Bo?” 

Bokuto ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as he admits, “I may have gotten a little carried away.” 

“A _little_ ,” Kuroo repeats incredulously, his eyes darkening as he gazes down at the obvious mark. He levels Bokuto with an unimpressed look as he skims his fingers down Tsukishima’s bare chest. 

Tsukishima shivers beneath him, his heart racketing when Kuroo dips down and gently sucks Tsukishima’s nipple between his teeth. The scrape of teeth against sensitive skin is only tease, but Tsukishima’s more than half hard and the relief of finally being _touched_ again has him curling his fists in the sheets and whimpering pathetically. 

“Pretty,” Bokuto coos as he pulls down his own pants. 

Tsukishima flushes and hides his face in the crook of his elbow as he mutters, “Fuck—ah, fuck off.”

Kuroo grins slyly, letting out a pleased noise as he brushes his thumb over the peak of one of Tsukishima’s nipples until the bud turns red and taut. “So responsive.” 

“Tetsurou,” Bokuto whines and pants a little as he shifts impatiently on his knees, already growing restless from being excluded. “You’re hogging him.” 

“What do you think, Tsukki?” Kuroo’s gaze flickers back up to Bokuto’s face as he drops down a little and traces his teeth against the hickey Bokuto had left two nights before. He smirks and murmurs in Tsukishima’s ear, “Should I let him touch you, too?” 

Tsukishima licks his lips. He swallows. Once, twice. “Yeah. Please. _Please_.”

“Don’t rush things though,” Kuroo warns Bokuto as the other boy mouths along Tsukishima’s stomach. “I want him to him last. It’s his first time, after all.” And then to Tsukishima, “Fuck, you look so good like this, Tsukki.” 

Tsukishima grits his teeth as Kuroo swirls his tongue around his nipple, turning the skin red and abused as he pinches the other. “Less talking,” Tsukishima hisses. “More—ah _anything_.”

“Patience,” Kuroo drawls, his eyes glazed as he slides his palms over Tsukishima’s chest. “We’ll get to that. First, how do you want us?”

Tsukishima’s heart stutters in his chest and he just barely resists the urge to bury his face in one of their pillows. He’s thought about it, obviously. What it would be like with the three of them? But he hadn’t thought they’d ask and now that they have... It’s more than a little embarrassing to admit that he’d fantasized about this, how the last week or so he’d been so desperate for it that he’d imagined their hands on him, their teeth, their lips, that he’d come with their names on his lips as he stroked himself through it. 

“Bokuto. Want him to suck me off,” Tsukishima mutters breathlessly, too quickly to be subtle but neither of them mocks him for it. 

Instead, Bokuto licks his lips and crawls between Tsukishima’s legs. 

“W-wait.” He releases a whimper, arching his back as Bokuto sucks lightly at inner part of his thigh, his teeth tracing over the skin but without enough force to leave another mark. His breath hitches as Bokuto laps soothingly at the skin he’d been teasing. “Is there anything I should know in advance about uh, preferences?” he inquires, his legs trembling as Bokuto traces patterns against Tsukishima’s bare skin with the rough tip of his thumb. 

Bokuto and Kuroo already know each other’s bodies intimately, already know how and where the other likes to be touched and Tsukishima can’t help but to feel a bit out of his depth. 

“Koutarou likes to be praised,” Kuroo shares, leaning over Tsukishima shoulder to ruffle Bokuto’s hair. “Likes to be told how _good_ he’s been. Don’t you?” 

Bokuto’s eyes go glassy and half lidded as he nods eagerly. “Tetsurou once bought me a pair of garters and matching stockings,” he confesses, his breath warm and maddening against the inner part of Tsukishima’s bare thighs.

“Oh.” Tsukishima’s eyes rake slowly over Bokuto’s bulky thighs, imagining the tight black sheer stockings reaching the mid of his thigh, narrow bands stretching over toned muscle and the supple curve of his ass, the delicate lace trim a stark and enticing contrast against Bokuto’s pale skin. Fuck.

Kuroo cackles and he must guess Tsukishima’s thoughts because he smirks and says, “We’ll revisit that another time, yeah? But for now, let’s stay on task. I believe you were telling us how you’d like to be fucked.” 

He hesitates and then nods, lifting himself up by his elbows. Tsukishima sits back and then perches himself in Kuroo’s lap because it’s easier—and notably less humiliating—to _show_ them rather than tell them. Hoping Kuroo gets the message, Tsukishima grabs Kuroo’s wrist and drags his hand down into the back of his boxers. “Like this,” Tsukishima chokes out. His pointed gaze slowly lifts between Bokuto, who’s kneeling between his spread legs, to Kuroo, who’s now seated behind him. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Kuroo asks, his voice calm and level as he studies Tsukishima’s face. 

“Thought about it,” Tsukishima admits and grinds his hips back against Kuroo’s, enjoying the way their bodies slot together. “Like this.”

Bokuto groans. “Damn, that’s hot. Can we?—”

Bokuto and Kuroo exchange a heated look. “Ambitious. But yeah we can—yeah.” Kuroo’s pupils are blown wide as he settles in closer to Tsukishima, tugging Tsukishima’s boxers down to revealing his flushed and leaking cock. Kuroo hooks his chin against the curve of Tsukishima’s shoulder as he wraps his hand around Tsukishima’s cock, smearing the precum with his thumb and strokes him with his slicked hand once, twice. “Bokuto—”

Without needing to be told, Bokuto lifts himself from his place between Tsukishima’s legs and rifles through their bedside table in search of the lube. “Got it!” Bokuto announces, grinning triumphantly as he holds the bottle over his head and twists the cap off. He tosses the bottle to Kuroo. Bokuto ducks down and brushes his lips against the hand still curled loosely around Tsukishima’s cock, his gold eyes glinting as Kuroo reluctantly releases him. 

“Want— _please_ ,” Tsukishima groans, bucking his hips as Bokuto kneels in front of him again. 

“His mouth. We remember,” Kuroo says, smirking up at him as he slicks his fingers. 

Tsukishima groans and squeezes his eyes shut as Bokuto obliges enthusiastically and finally, _finally_ takes Tsukishima’s cock his mouth. Suddenly enveloped in the warmth and suction of Bokuto’s mouth, Tsukishima’s breaths turn ragged as he digs his nails into the meat of Kuroo’s thigh. Bokuto makes a loud noise of satisfaction as he works Tsukishima into his throat, swirling his tongue around the base as Kuroo dips a finger lower to circle Tsukishima’s entrance. 

“Bet we could make you come just like this,” Kuroo croons against his throat as he smoothly presses a slicked finger into Tsukishima’s hole. Tsukishima gasps and sets his hands on Bokuto’s shoulders, enjoying the vast width of them as Kuroo continues to pump his finger in and out of him.

Bokuto moans around him, the vibrations going straight to Tsukishima’s cock, causing his toes to curl as he arches his back and whimpers. Tsukishima bucks his hips in response, his cock bumping against the back of his Bokuto’s throat as he shudders and grunts out, “Ah—hng I can take more than that.” 

If they don’t hurry things up, he’s going to come before Kuroo’s inside of him and that’s not a possibility he wants to entertain, so Tsukishima tilts his hips encouragingly and bites down on his lower lip as Kuroo slides two fingers alongside the first. “That better?” Kuroo asks, his tone soothing yet teasing in equal measure as he punctuates the question with a sharp twist of his fingers. 

Tsukishima shakes his head, his glasses sliding down the slope of his nose as he gasps. It’s good, so good, but it’s not _enough_. “Tetsurou. Please. Need more.” 

“We told you we’d take care of you, didn’t we?” Kuroo whispers, hushing him as he pulls his fingers free, leaving Tsukishima stretched and agonizingly empty. Tsukishima refocuses his attention on the slow drag of Bokuto’s tongue around the tip of his cock, on the starved looks Bokuto casts him when Tsukishima hears the telltale crinkle of a condom wrapper. 

“Would you prefer glow-in-dark or flavored? My personal preference is—”

“You had better be kidding,” Tsukishima snaps. “No weird stuff. _Hurry up_ or I’ll take care of _myself_ , Tetsurou.” It’s an empty threat, and the two of them must know that, but the strokes of Bokuto’s tongue turn punishing as Kuroo finally stops fumbling with the condom. 

“So cruel, Tsukki,” Kuroo simpers. Tsukishima curls his fingers into Bokuto’s hair and moans deeply as the head of Kuroo’s cock nudges his rim and then pushes in. 

Kuroo's fingers grasp clumsily at Tsukishima's hips, his shoulders, his waist as Kuroo groans, "Fuck, Tsukki, you're--ah _tight_."

Using the leverage he has, Tsukishima lifts his hips, letting Kuroo slip deeper as his thrust pick up speed. “Better,” Tsukishima moans, his voice strained from arousal as he curls his fingers around the back of Bokuto’s neck, pulling him closer. It’s too soon to be sounding this fucked-out, maybe, but he’s too far gone to convincingly sound unaffected. Sighing, Tsukishima arches his back and tilts his head up, baring his throat as he rolls his hips back onto Kuroo’s cock, keeping up with the fast pace the other boy sets.

Feeling neglected, Bokuto drags the flat of his tongue along the underside of Tsukishima’s cock. He gives Tsukishima a pointed look, quirking an eyebrow in a gesture that demands his attention before hollowing his cheeks and sliding the entire girth into his mouth. 

“Look at him,” Kuroo whispers, his hands cupping Tsukishima’s face, guiding his gaze downwards to where Bokuto is kneeling in front of them. “Being so _perfect_ for us. Such a good boy. Don’t you agree, Tsukki?” 

Tsukishima can hardly think, can hardly concentrate on anything but the drive and pressure of Kuroo’s deep thrusts, or the perfect suction of Bokuto’s lips sliding against his cock but he nods senselessly as Bokuto pulls him in deeper.

“Koutarou. _Koutarou._ Fuck—your mouth,” Tsukishima pants, his fingers curling back into Bokuto’s unruly hair. Belatedly, he remembers what Kuroo had said about praise. “Ah—so good _so_ hng.” 

Bokuto _preens_ beneath him, his winged eyebrows drawing together in concentration as he doubles his efforts. Bokuto’s eyes flutter shut as he flicks his tongue across the head of Tsukishima’s leaking cock. Tsukishima’s body jolts and his head falls back as Kuroo changes his pace, timing his thrusts with the bob of Bokuto’s head and it’s too much, too soon. His attempts to stave off his orgasm feel futile as the pressure below his gut coils tighter and he arches into the heat of them, his body desperately itching for release.

He looks down at Bokuto and tries to wiggle his hips in an attempt to pull out before it’s too late. Bokuto shakes his head, his lips curling into a devious smile as he places his hand on Tsukishima hips, pinning them in place. 

“He’ll swallow,” Kuroo interprets for him excitedly. “Wants to. Will you let him?” 

“Yeah,” Tsukishima hisses as Kuroo’s thrusts start to falter, Kuroo’s thighs trembling beneath him, as he drops his head against Tsukishima’s shoulder. “ _Yes_. Gonna—”

Kuroo sucks at his neck, teeth lightly tracing over his pulse, his fingers pressing against Tsukishima’s rim, feeling where their bodies are connected as he moans “Come for us, Tsukki.” 

No less immune to the command than he was in his own fantasies, Tsukishima obeys, clenching down on Kuroo’s cock, clinging to him as his body convulsing and he spills into Bokuto’s mouth with a sharp gasp. Kuroo follows soon after, groaning deeply before slumping against the bed’s headboard as the tension eases from his body. 

Tsukishima reaches for Bokuto, drawing him in closer as Kuroo pulls out. “But what about—”

“S’okay. Got it covered,” Bokuto tells him, wiggling his hand, the tips of his fingers resting just below the waistband of his briefs and it’s only now that Tsukishima realizes Bokuto had worked his hand into his briefs at some point, that he’d been working himself over at the same time. 

“Oh.” Tsukishima frowns. “I wanted to return the favor.”

Bokuto laughs and nestles against Tsukishima’s thigh. “Later. _Definitely_ later. I have practically no refractory period.” 

Or gag reflex, Tsukishima notes, gaping a little. 

“It’s true,” Kuroo says, sounding put-upon as he sighs and retrieves the pillows that had fallen off the bed. “Bo’s incorrigible. Maybe with your help I’ll finally be able to keep up with him.” 

Bokuto hums softly and crawls up the bed, tugging Tsukishima along with him. He pulls Tsukishima down onto his chest as he flops back down onto the bed. “Oh please. You _love_ it.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo admits, his expression fond and warm as he drags the covers up, pulling the covers over the three of them. “Yeah I do.” 

It’s only after they’ve cleaned themselves off and they’ve been cuddling for a while, Bokuto huddled against his side, Kuroo’s arm wrapped snugly around Tsukishima’s waist that Kuroo says, “You know, this isn’t how we meant to do this either. The first time part, I mean.” 

“It was perfect,” Tsukishima reassures them. He doesn’t have any other references of what ‘good sex’ is supposed to be like, but he’s can tell Kuroo and Bokuto are skilled and well-practiced at it. 

“How unromantic,” Bokuto complains, the tip of his nose tracing Tsukishima’s jaw as he curls his leg over him. “We were going to take you out to dinner first. Someplace with like, at least a four star rating. There were going to be _roses_ and candles, maybe.”

“It was sex, not a proposal,” Tsukishima argues. “Besides, virginity is a social construct and not a physical or scientific fact.” 

“Unromantic,” Bokuto repeats. “Kuroo wanted orchestra music to play softly in the background. We were going to cook for you, but we hadn’t decided on a meal yet and neither of us can cook very well, but maybe Akaashi—”

Tsukishima cuts him off with a firm kiss to the side of his mouth. “Don’t need that. Just need this.” He slips Bokuto’s hand into his own. “And this.” Tsukishima intertwines his free hand with Kuroo’s, repeating the gesture he’d done earlier that night. 

“Look at this,” Kuroo gasps, folding down the corner of the sheets to stare at their interlocked fingers. “ _Both_ my boyfriends are giant saps.”

Tsukishima groans and kicks Kuroo in the shin. “Go to sleep, you’re embarrassing me. And if you dare steal my pillow, I’m breaking up with you.” 

“So cruel, Tsukki,” Kuroo replies but his lips curl into a smirk against Tsukishima’s neck as he relaxes against him. It’s not long before the three of them settle, their breaths turning even as Tsukishima watches the rise and fall of Bokuto and Kuroo’s chests beneath the thin blanket. He snugs closer to them, splays his palms on Kuroo’s chest as his eyes flutter closed and falls asleep feeling safe and cared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've inflicted my version of smut upon y'all, we can get ready for the next chapter~ which WILL be the last chapter. Serious about this, this time. Anyways I'm mostly happyish wish how this chapter turned out so I have high hopes for the next one. I know, I know, maybe this isn't the way you wanted the smut to go down. Here are other possibilities I'm am interested in:  
> \- Kuroo sitting back and guiding Tsukishima through fucking Bokuto in vivid detail. Because he's helpful like that.  
> \- Bokuto and Tsukishima fucking Kuroo at the same time while Kuroo writhes helplessly and claws at the sheets


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight smut but mostly cavity inducing fluff guys. ah the victory lap chapter~

“Good morning!” Bokuto bellows while patting his own pillow with the hand not curled against Tsukishima’s hip. 

“Make it stop,” Kuroo mutters, blindly grasping at nothing until his hands finally find Bokuto’s head. Kuroo presses his palm down against the other boy’s face as if turning off an alarm clock. “S’too damn early for this.” 

“Hey, hey, that’s my face, asshole!” Bokuto makes a muffled sound of annoyance and slaps Kuroo’s hand away, easily pushing him onto the other side of the bed. 

“Rise and shine!” Bokuto tries again a few minutes later, provoking a warning growl from Kuroo as Tsukishima’s eyes flutter open,

Tsukishima squints under the glare of the sun filtering in through the blinds and readjusts himself, his eyes widening when his face brushes against bare skin. 

“S’not my pillow,” Tsukishima mumbles into Bokuto’s impressive pectorals. Their legs are intertwined and his head is cushioned by toned muscle that shakes beneath him as Bokuto laughs airily and curls his fingers into Tsukishima’s short hair.

“Nah,” says Bokuto, his voice still raspy from sleep as a grin slowly curves his lips. “But that is.” 

Tsukishima’s gaze follows Bokuto’s nod to where Kuroo’s face is awkwardly sandwiched between two pillows, one of which was definitely Tsukishima’s. 

“Unbelievable,” Tsukishima mutters. He burrows further against Bokuto’s side in search of warmth. He clicks his tongue against his cheek. “Next time I’m sleeping on the couch.” 

“Nooooo,” Bokuto moans as he rolls on top of Tsukishima. His large arms wrap around Tsukishima as he peppers Tsukishima’s collar with kisses. 

“You’re crushing me,” Tsukishima grunts. 

Bokuto has him pinned against the bed, something solid and warm poking Tsukishima’s hip. “Koutarou. What,” Tsukishima swallows hard, “is that?” 

Bokuto blinks down at him owlishly before slowly peering down further to where he’s tented in his grey briefs. “What’s—Oh.”

“Just tell him to take care of it _himself_ ,” Kuroo grumbles sleepily from beside them as he buries his face deeper in the crease between the two pillows.

Tsukishima considers it. He could hook his hands under Bokuto’s arms and push him off, only Bokuto’s lips are already pursing in a pout and that won’t do. He can do this, knows that he _wants_ to as he tilts his head up just enough so that he can trail his lips along the sharp curve of Bokuto’s jaw. He smiles a little at the startled noise Bokuto makes. 

“I could—”

“Yeah? Seriously?” Bokuto woops and grins down at Tsukishima, his smile bright and blinding. 

Tsukishima nods slowly, his gaze shifting to where Kuroo’s watching them now out of the corner of his eye.

He doesn’t know the rules.

Doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch Bokuto like this when it’s only the two of them. 

“Tetsurou?” Tsukishima’s voice is soft. Almost hesitant.

Kuroo gives them a partial shrug, probably trying to seem unaffected but failing completely as he rolls over now and watches them now with rapt attention. 

It’s all the permission Tsukishima needs before he’s twisting out of Bokuto’s hold and maneuvering them so that Bokuto’s back is pressed flat against the mattress. 

“I haven’t…,” Tsukishima trails off, hunching his shoulders as he mentally prepares for this to be a disaster. 

“That’s fine,” Bokuto says, his smile broadening as he wiggles his hips and tugs his own briefs down past his thighs. 

Tsukishima balks a little at Bokuto’s shamelessness but eventually urges himself forward, fingers trailing tentatively along Bokuto’s chest, blunt nails grazing gently against firm contours of muscle. Bokuto shivers beneath him, arching into Tsukishima’s touch as Tsukishima traces a course from the dip of Bokuto’s collarbone to the sensitive skin of Bokuto’s stomach with the pads of his fingertips. There’s a light trail of course hair there and Tsukishima distinctly remembers witnessing a similar sight in the snapchat he’d received from Kuroo. Only now he has the real thing panting and shuddering beneath him. 

“Tsukki,” Kuroo chides lightly, his smirk wicked and debauched as he shuffles a little closer to observe them. “Don’t you think you’re being a little cruel?”

Tsukishima doesn’t offer an apology, nor does he stop his roving hands, which feel along the wide expansive of skin. Bokuto, at least, doesn’t seem to be complaining. Not yet, anyway. Vindictive streak aside, Tsukishima really does want to savor this, wants to see how long he can tease Bokuto with feather-light touches until the other boy breaks and _begs_ him for something more. 

Now’s not the time for that, though, Tsukishima decides as he ducks down and drags his teeth along the tendon of Bokuto’s neck, earning a gratifying groan from both boys. Tsukishima smirks sharply, starting to feel more confident as he rolls his hips with purpose and sucks on the shell of Bokuto’s ear. They settle into a rhythm like this, their bodies rocking together as he curls his fingers against Bokuto’s hips, firm enough to bruise as Bokuto scrabbles at Tsukishima’s chest. Kuroo inhales sharply beside them.

“T-Tsukki,” Bokuto says, and it comes out as a sob as he writhes and trembles against the cotton sheets. There’s an arc of blush spreading pleasantly across his cheekbones as his slack mouth falls open on another groan. “Ha—god.”

It takes very little to rile up the other boy, Tsukishima realizes, humming in satisfaction as he slots their mouths together. His hands are still travelling over Bokuto’s body, his palms inching down the slope of Bokuto’s hips as he licks into Bokuto’s open mouth. Tsukishima’s still frustratingly unpracticed, but the string of curses he pulls from Bokuto indicates he must be doing _something_ right. He pulls away to admire his work—Bokuto’s lips are red and swollen from kissing, his eyes hooded in arousal and his hair mussed beyond repair. 

If Tsukishima’s honest with himself, and he’d rather not be, he’s stalling a little bit. Prolonging the parts he’s comfortable with and delaying the inevitable. Sucking the inside of his cheek with every ounce of resolve he’s managed to muster up, Tsukishima lowers his hand and curls his fingers around the leaking member he’d purposely been neglecting. 

It’s then that Kuroo sits and taps Tsukishima on the shoulder. “Wait.” 

Tsukishima internally panics, his eyes widening in horror as Kuroo draws his hand away from Bokuto while Bokuto whines at the sudden loss. Was this a line he wasn’t supposed to cross? “Tetsu- _oh_.”

Tsukishima stares in disbelief, eyes lidding as Kuroo leans in and trails the tip of his tongue suggestively along the length of one of Tsukishima’s fingers. Kuroo narrows his eyes, every swift motion signaling _intent_ as his tongue brushes over the ridges of Tsukishima’s knuckles. Tsukishima squeezes his eyes shut, because he can’t watch this anymore. It’s too much, too embarrassing. But a warm burst of pleasure lances through him when Kuroo swirls his tongue slowly around the digit. Tsukishima groans and prods his finger deeper into Kuroo’s mouth, sliding it against the flat of Kuroo’s tongue. Tsukishima’s own mouth parts unconsciously, a moan escaping as Kuroo sucks lightly against the sensitive skin. 

“Jesus,” Bokuto pants, his breath turning ragged as he watches them hungrily. “Damn, that’s hot.”

Kuroo grins and tugs Tsukishima’s hand back, releasing the wet finger with a lewd ‘pop’ and guides Tsukishima’s hands back down to where Bokuto’s still hard and leaking. “Relax, it’s just us,” Kuroo murmurs against Tsukishima’s ear. 

Kuroo uses his free hand to tug Tsukishima boxers down to his knees. He hums in approval as Tsukishima, now naked, settles back between Bokuto’s legs. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kuroo cooes, as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing to the two of them. Kuroo curls his hand over Tsukishima’s where it’s wrapped around and guides him through the gentle strokes.

“Thought you didn’t wanna participate,” Bokuto accuses. 

Kuroo hums in consideration. “What kind of mentor would I be if I didn’t try to show Tsukki here the ropes?” he asks, ignoring Tsukishima’s pointed glare as he adjusts Tsukishima’s posture and grip. 

“Here, flick your wrist like that,” Kuroo instructs, tightening his hand around Tsukishima’s as he demonstrates. 

“Are you backseat fucking me?” Bokuto asks incredulously, a moan half strangled in his accusation. Bokuto arches his back and bucks his hips into their grip, already growing impatient with what little friction they’ve given him. 

Kuroo hums. “Maybe. Would you like me to stop?” 

He smirks when Bokuto and Tsukishima shake their heads.

“Tsukki, look at how _good_ he’s being for us. He deserves a reward, don’t you think?” Kuroo asks, loud enough for Bokuto to hear. “That’s it, nice and steady. Oh, don’t forget—no teeth.”

“Holy—merciful—hng,” Bokuto grunts as Tsukishima takes him into his mouth. Bokuto’s eyes fall shut as Tsukishima’s tongue flicks experimentally at the tip, eyes narrowing in concentration as he studies Bokuto’s reaction. 

“Is this okay?” Tsukishima asks, holding Bokuto’s thighs apart with a firm grip, his gaze flitting upwards, still a little uncertain, as he sucks gently at the skin. He dips down again to flex his tongue against the underside of Bokuto’s cock as he curves his lips up and down over it. 

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Kuroo and Bokuto answer at the same time. 

It’s sloppier, messier than Tsukishima would have liked and there’s saliva trickling down the side of his mouth but the soft whimpers Bokuto’s making and the violent quivers of Bokuto’s legs make it worth it. 

He’s interrupted by Kuroo unceremoniously dropping the bottle of lube beside him. 

Tsukishima turns his head to the side and gives Kuroo a questioning look as the other boy twists the lid open with ease. 

“You want to take care of him, don’t you?” Kuroo asks innocently, taking advantage of Tsukishima’s flustered state to take Tsukishima’s hand and then dip Tsukishima’s fingers in the lube. It feels cold and wet against his fingertips and Tsukishima wrinkles his nose at the sensation. 

Tsukishima gingerly traces his wet fingertip around Bokuto’s entrance, waiting for Kuroo’s signal when Bokuto suddenly whimpers again and loudly complains “Hey, hey, don’t tease!” 

With that, Tsukishima pushes in, rolling his eyes at Bokuto’s hiccupped moan of relief as Tsukishima ducks his head and nips at the side of Bokuto’s neck in retaliation. “No patience,” he chides, his voice surprisingly steady as the room fills with the slick and wet noises of his finger pumping in and out of Bokuto. “How can you be so—?“ Eager, desperate, _needy_ this early in the morning.

“He’s always like this,” Kuroo snickers. “You’re spoiling him today. Usually he’s more than happy getting off by just grinding against the bed or against the heel of my palm.” 

Tsukishima smirks at the imagery. 

“Give him another,” Kuroo advises. Sensing Tsukishima’s hesitation, he adds, “He can handle it. Can’t you, Koutarou?” 

When Bokuto says nothing, his eyes glazed and mouth hanging open, Kuroo makes a noise of annoyance and presses his thumb against Bokuto’s stomach where the tension’s been steadily building ever since Tsukishima started touching him. 

“Now who’s spoiling him?” Tsukishima teases as he sits back a little and waits for Bokuto to ask nicely. 

Finally pulled from his reverie, Bokuto’s gaze shifts to where Tsukishima and Kuroo are looking down at him expectantly. “Tetsu—Tsukki, please,” he pleads, whining softly as he lifts his hips, trying to earn more stimulation. “God, Tsukki your mouth _your hands_ so perfect—you’re perfect ah.”

Tsukishima blinks, losing his concentration. He bites his lip, swallowing a groan as Kuroo huffs a laugh against Tsukishima’s shoulder. 

“What, _now_ you’re shy?” he taunts, palm smoothing down the line of Tsukishima’s spine. 

“Shut up,” Tsukishima grunts, face clouding in abashed annoyance. Bokuto looks like he’s going to say something and Tsukishima uses the opportunity to slide a second finger alongside the first. Bokuto’s breath comes out as a hiss as Tsukishima stretches him out slowly, trying to replicate Kuroo’s languid ministrations from the night before. 

“You’re both doing so well,” Kuroo praises as Tsukishima lowers his mouth over Bokuto’s cock again. Tsukishima’s fingers are clever and meticulous as he slides them in and out of Bokuto at a steady rhythm, thrusting them in time with each lick of his tongue. Heats pools in his abdomen, flush coloring his cheeks as he frowns at the sudden attention. 

Bokuto’s getting close. He’s turned weirdly quiet and he’s pushing back against Tsukishima’s fingers like he’s starved for it. “Ah—I’m gunna—can I?” Bokuto groans, his voice strained as he twists his fingers in Tsukishima’s hair. 

“Hmm? Already?” Tsukishima asks, condescension masking his nerves. He stares, transfixed by the arch of Bokuto’s back and the hitched moans that spill from his lips as Bokuto clenches down against him. Remembering suddenly that Bokuto’s waiting for his permission, for his encouragement, he rasps out, “Go ahead, then.”

Tsukishima crooks his fingers just so, pulling back to lap his tongue across the slit of Bokuto’s cock and that’s all it takes before Bokuto’s coming with a sharp cry, Kuroo clamping his hand over Bokuto’s mouth a moment too late. Sighing, Kuroo ruffles his Bokuto’s hair, soothing him through the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

“Akaashi’s going to hate us,” Kuroo sniggers as Bokuto sags deeper against the mattress. 

“Worth it,” Bokuto murmurs, tugging Kuroo and Tsukishima closer. “That was amazing. The sex is even better with you, Tsukki.” 

Tsukishima makes a face, his nose scrunching as he searches for a towel to use to clean his face. 

“Not just the sex! Everything’s better with you!” Bokuto exclaims breathily before pouncing on Tsukishima and tackling him into the sheets, pulling Kuroo down with them. 

“Stupid owl. How do you still have this much energy?” Kuroo demands as Bokuto presses his lips to Tsukishima’s.

“Gross, don’t kiss me after I just—,” Tsukishima groans, still mortified by Bokuto’s sincerity. He squirms a little at the knowledge that Bokuto can taste himself on Tsukishima’s lips. “Get off. I’m going to go shower. Alone.” He has his own ‘problem’ to take care of. Kuroo and Bokuto both pout at that. “And then I’m making us breakfast because according to Akaashi, you two could mess up something as simple as cereal, given the chance.” 

“Woo, breakfast!” Bokuto cheers. Realizing the slight against them a moment later, he puffs out his chest, his tone turning indignant as he yells, “Ak _aa_ shi! How rude!”

“M’going back to sleep,” Kuroo yawns and stretches before burying his face in the pillows again. 

~*~

“So how does this work, anyway?” Tsukishima prompts, his eyebrows furrowed as he flicks his wrists, flipping the eggs with ease. The yolks sizzle in the pan, the wafting smell of breakfast inviting Kuroo and Bokuto closer.

“Mmm?” Kuroo asks distractedly, licking his lips.

“Us,” Tsukishima clarifies. He cranes his neck to look at them. “Polyamory.” _What are we doing?_

That finally catches their attention. Bokuto and Kuroo tear their gazes from the pan and fix Tsukishima with matching looks of confusion. 

When neither of them show signs of responding any time soon, Tsukishima sighs in frustration and lowers the heat, the flames on the stove dimming as he turns to face them. 

“How’s this going to work, exactly? The two of you are graduating this year. What will we do then? Whose family do we visit on holidays? _How do I explain this to my family?_.” 

Kuroo nods sagely, his lips twitching with barely contained laughter as he says, “And what will we change our Facebook status to?” 

Bokuto chuckles. His gaze turns hungry again as he watches the stove. 

Tsukishima scowls and waves the spatula at them. “I’m serious.” 

“So I am,” Kuroo counters, his tone losing its teasing edge as he walks around them and then uses his forearms to push up onto the counter. He settles against the wall, knowing full well Akaashi would scold him for sitting on their kitchen counter if he were here. “Look, it’s not as if we have all the answers, either, Kei. Bo and I haven’t read the Polyamory Handbook or anything—“

“There’s a handbook for that?” Bokuto inquires with genuine curiosity.

Kuroo and Tsukishima exchange a look of disbelief and opt to ignore the question.

“My point is that we’re making this up as we’re going along, same as you,” Kuroo finishes. He twists his fingers in the long fringe of his bangs as he offers Tsukishima a cheeky smile.

“Reassuring,” Tsukishima huffs. He’s being sarcastic but it’s somewhat true. Knowing that he’s not the only one out of his depth helps a little to sooth the knot coiling in his stomach. 

Bokuto surges forward, throwing his weight on Tsukishima’s back as he loops his arms around the other boy’s waist. “We’ll be fine, Tsukki,” he says cheerful, dipping his hand below the waistband of Tsukishima’s boxers. The hand curling on his hip is ridiculously distracting, as is the nose pressed against the back of his neck and the warm breath fanning against the blades of his bare shoulders, which is why Tsukishima doesn’t notice when Bokuto slips the spatula from Tsukishima’s slackened grip and uses it to scrape out half of the eggs he’d been cooking in one graceful, devastating swoop. 

Kuroo and Tsukishima both swat at Bokuto but it’s too late as he wolfs the eggs down, swallowing in satisfaction afterwards and looking _thoroughly_ pleased with himself. 

“Thanks for the breakfast!” 

He hums cheerily and smacks his lips together, making loud, wet sounds as he strolls out of the kitchen and into the living room. Tsukishima glowers at Bokuto’s receding figure. “What an asshole,” Tsukishima accuses with little heat. He turns off the oven and goes to fetch plates to divide the remaining portion.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, agreeing vehemently as he grabs a pair of discarded chopsticks and uses them to snatch the rest of the food out of the pan. He drops the food onto his gaping mouth before Tsukishima can stop him. “Totally,” Kuroo mumbles around the mouthful. 

“Why am I attracted to either of you?” Tsukishima ponders aloud. 

Kuroo grins slyly. “Our charm? Our pecs? Our _tact_?”

Tsukishima rests a hand on his hip and says; with all the seriousness he can muster, “That must be it.” 

Kuroo sputters before dissolving into laughter, his whole body shaking with it as he clutches at his own stomach. Tsukishima’s frown deepens as he watches.

When Kuroo finally sobers, he reaches down and curls his fingers behind Tsukishima’s neck, yanking him closer. He kisses between Tsukishima’s furrowed brows before moving his mouth lower to press soft kisses along the hard line of Tsukishima’s mouth until it smooths again, the tension gradually ebbing out of Tsukishima’s body with each flutter of Kuroo’s lips. 

“Still mad,” Tsukishima grumbles even though he isn’t. He leans into Kuroo’s space, seeking out the other boy’s touch. 

“We’ll make you toast,” Kuroo promises, his tone only slightly apologetic as he pulls Tsukishima in for another kiss. 

~*~

“So you three are official, huh?” Akaashi asks, eyeing the cat-emoji print of Tsukishima’s borrowed boxers as the trio joins Akaashi and Kenma in the living room. 

“They’re persistent,” Tsukishima replies, his ears reddening when it comes out as transparently fond. Akaashi gives him a knowing look. 

“They have a habit of growing on people,” Akaashi agrees, his tone sympathetic. He rakes his fingers through Kenma’s hair. “Kind of like fungus.” 

Tsukishima sniggers as Kuroo and Bokuto narrow their eyes in response. 

“Was that a compliment or an insult?” Bokuto asks, torn between pride and indignation as he looks between Akaashi and Tsukishima in confusion. 

Kuroo frowns. “With Akaashi, it’s usually both.” 

“Tsukki! You should be nicer to us now because we’re dating! You should defend us!” Bokuto insists, his face puffing up. Tsukishima stares back blankly, unmoved by his boyfriends’ plight. 

‘Tsukki’s just _shy_ about open affection,” Kuroo declares. He hooks his finger in the waistband of Tsukishima’s boxers and brushes his lips against his, Kuroo’s grin turning triumphant as Tsukishima leans into the kiss. 

“We’re outnumbered,” Akaashi whispers loudly, voice edging on panic. “And I think we’re going to need a bigger PDA jar.”

Kenma scowls, his golden eyes still fixed on his phone. “Can’t say we didn’t know this was coming.” 

“Oi! If anyone’s publically affection, it’s you two,” Bokuto argues. He gestures towards the casual way that Kenma’s legs are draped across Akaashi’s lap. “When are you two finally going to get together, anyway?”

Akaashi pales at this, his delicate fingers stilling in Kenma’s hair. Kenma’s gaze turns sharp as he rests his phone beside him and slides fully into Akaashi’s lap. Everything goes eerily still and Akaashi doesn’t look like he’s breathing as Kenma presses a chaste kiss to his slackened mouth. Kenma pulls away and turns to look at Bokuto, one eyebrow raised in challenge as if daring the other boy to say something.

“I—wha—what—how—when?” Bokuto sputters, completely dumbfounded as he tries and fails to string together a coherent sentence. 

Kenma and Akaashi meaningful exchange a look. “A few days ago,” Kenma admits. He plucks nervously at his sleeves as he glances over at Kuroo. 

“A few days ago,” Bokuto repeats in disbelief. 

“Why are you so surprised, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks, tugged Kenma back against him so their bodies are flush together. “Weren’t you the one saying I should do something about my feelings before I lose my chance?”

Kenma blinks up at Akaashi in confusion, as if the idea of him moving on is unfathomable. “Keiji.” 

“I can’t believe this,” Kuroo says. “Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“We just did,” Akaashi points out. 

“Immediately, I mean! I’m his best friend!”

Kenma shrugs and bites his lower lip as he retrieves his phone. “You seemed sort of busy lately. You’ve sent me hundreds of texts over these past few days. Most of which have just been sad emoji’s and exclamation marks.”

Kuroo deflates a little “Oh. I guess you’re right.” 

“So I suppose the _cat’s_ out of the bag, now, huh?” Bokuto asks. He beams as Akaashi and Tsukishima groan. Kuroo high fives him. 

“You have weird tastes in guys,” Akaashi informs Tsukishima as his hand lowers to Kenma’s hip. 

“You have weird tastes in friends,” Tsukishima concedes.

Kuroo’s gaze zeroes in on where Akaashi’s fingers are resting against the curve of Kenma’s hip. “Oi! Watch where you’re putting your hands! That’s my precious kouhai you’re touching.”

Kenma’s face turns bright red. “Kuro…”

“You’re worried about Kenma’s virtue?” Bokuto demands and places his hands on his hips. “What about Keiji’s, hmm? I bet that minx couldn’t wait to—”

“Oi! Who are you called a minx? If anyone’s the instigator, it’s probably Keiji! Look at that devious face!”

Tsukishima groans and kneads the bridge of his nose. “Morons.”

Kenma clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “You two are okay with this though, right? Keiji and I?” He sucks on the inside of his own cheek. “Because I’m—happy.”

Akaashi, usually level-headed and cool, looks properly flustered. “Me too.” 

“Our best friends are dating,” Kuroo says, as if it’s only just occurred to him. “They’re finally together.”

“Hey, hey, hey it’s like Tetsu and I are together _twice_! You two have made me the happiest, proudest best friend in the world!” Bokuto laughs as he rubs his eyes. 

“Bokuto-san, we’re not related. You wouldn’t be my brother in law,” Akaashi says, sighing. “And—wait are you two crying?”

Kuroo and Bokuto embrace each other as they sob. “Young love!” Kuroo sniffs. He nuzzles his wet face against Bokuto’s shoulder. 

“They grew up so fast!” Bokuto yells, his voice strained from crying. 

Akaashi and Kenma sigh. 

“They’re only a year younger than you,” Tsukishima says. He’s ignored by boyfriends who are still clutching at each other and making loud declarations of happiness. 

“Want to play Mario Kart?” Kenma asks Tsukishima and Akaashi as they pointedly try to ignore the ridiculous display in front of them. Tsukishima and Akaashi nod and fetch the controllers. 

~*~

It takes less than a day before Hinata’s pried the ‘deets’ out of Tsukishima as to what happened after the party. 

“Two boyfriends, huh?” Hinata snickers. He releases a low whistle. “Akiteru’s going to be so proud! Kei’s finally learned how to place nice with the other kids.”

Tsukishima’s ears turn red with embarrassment. “Shut up! At least I can actually fess up to my feelings.”

He expects Hinata to just repeat those words an immature caricature of Tsukishima’s voice, but instead, Hinata’s smile turnings blaringly bright.

He claps his hands together, as if only haven’t just recalled something. “Actually,” Hinata corrects, “ _Kageyama_ confessed to me a few days ago. We’re going for coffee in a few hours.” 

“Oh.” _About time_. Tsukishima smirks, imagining the constipated look on Kageyama’s face as he forces out a few syllabus, his face definitely inflamed as he ‘confesses.’

Guessing Tsukishima’s thoughts, Hinata collapses back against the couch, giggling as he shields his face with a cushion. “It wasn’t that bad!” he squeals, laughing harder when Tsukishima scoffs. “He told me he laff… liff… _loves_ me.”

Tsukishima’s gaze turns sharp and apprehensive. He’d say something about not wanting the details, about not caring, but he and Hinata have been past that since third year. Still, bad habits. Instead, he lets curiosity creep into his tone as he quirks his eyebrow and he says “Love, huh? Sounds pretty serious.”

“Yeah,” Hinata agrees. He sighs wistfully and hugs the cushion against his chest. 

“You and Kageyama. You’re not...awful together.” Tsukishima blinks at himself in surprise of his own honesty. Both of them were brash and loud and too energetic and but they also brought the best out of each other. Two idiots should logically be a recipe for disaster, not a well-matched combination and yet. 

“Thanks! I mean I was all _bwahhh_ for a long time because I thought it was one-sided,” Hinata says excitedly. “But then he confessed and I was like _guawhh_ , you know?”

Most of the time, the enthusiastic noises Hinata would make seemed like gibberish, but this time Tsukishima thinks like he might actually understand what the shorter boy was getting at. How horrific. 

“Oh! Maybe we can go on double dates now,” Hinata suggests eagerly. He grins at the prospect. “Or is it a triple date? We should do it, though!”

“Absolutely not,” Tsukishima hisses. 

Hinata pouts. “You’re still no fun.” 

“And you’re still a brat,” Tsukishima counters. 

“Hey, Kei?” Hinata peers up at him, a soft look illuminating his features. 

“Mmm,” Tsukishima murmurs, noncommittal. 

“I’m happy for you, too,” Hinata tells him, his unabashed earnestly catching Tsukishima off-guard. Damn it. Sometimes Tsukishima can’t help but compare Hinata to one of his particularly obnoxious and sincere boyfriends. 

“I—thanks.” 

He’s happy to leave things like that, ending the conversation on a surprisingly high note as he returns his attention to his book, but Hinata, being _Hinata_ insists on ruining the moment.

“Which of you…you know? I mean how does that work with three people, exactly? Where does it all fit? Because I read this thing online that said—”

Tsukishima digs the tips of his fingers against Hinata’s scalp until the smaller boy cries out in pain.

“Mercy! Mercy! Mercy! Curse you, Kei!” Hinata wails as he flails so hard he accidentally rolls off the couch. 

“Tsukki, stop bullying him,” Yamaguchi scolds as he walks past them. “And Shouyou, stop provoking Tsukki.” 

“Yes, Tadashi!” Tsukishima and Hinata call out at the same time. 

~*~

Dating two people is strange. It’s a little tedious coordinating dates with the three of their conflicting schedules and it’s a little tiresome, because well, it’s Bokuto and Kuroo. But Tsukishima finds he enjoys having two partners more than he’d expected. He doesn’t let them coddle him but he likes having both Kuroo and Bokuto looking out for him. They remind him to take care of himself, they make him cheesy good luck headbands when he’s studying for his finals and they inexplicably show up with coffee whenever Tsukishima’s so sleep deprived that he’s feeling homicidal. 

So if asked, nay, if tortured, Tsukishima supposes he’d say things are going well. Being someone’s boyfriend doesn’t come naturally to him but he’s been getting the hang of it. They have a _routine_ \-- Wednesday night is movie night, Friday night is board games and video games night with Akaashi and Kenma and Saturday nights are Date Nights. They won’t even tell Tsukishima what their traditions used to be because they’re insistent on making new ones. It’s all horrendously domestic. 

So a month into their relationship, Tsukishima’s naively confident that he and his two boyfriends are on the same page and that everything’s going swimmingly—or at least as swimmingly as anything can go with Kuroo and Bokuto involved. 

That is, until Bokuto and Kuroo suddenly present him with a small box. 

The three of them are sprawled out on Kuroo and Bokuto’s shared bed. Tsukishima’s face is cushioned on Bokuto’s stomach and Kuroo’s chin is tucked beneath Tsukishima’s arm. It’s the kind of quiet afternoon that Tsukishima likes best only it seems his boyfriends are intent on sabotaging it. 

“What is that?” Tsukishima regards the box in deep suspicion as if it’s a bomb. 

“Anniversary gift!” Bokuto says like it’s obvious. 

Tsukishima scowls. “We’ve only been dating for a month. And I didn’t get you anything.”

“We didn’t expect you to,” Kuroo snickers and reaches up to ruffle Tsukishima’s hair. “Just open it.”

It doesn’t make sense of it to be a wedding ring, but Tsukishima can’t think of anything else that the box might possibly possess. 

“C’m _on_ ,” Bokuto whines, thrusting the box into Tsukishima’s open hands. “It took us forever to pick it out! At least take a peek. The suspense is killing me.”

Tsukishima gingerly pries the box open, revealing a key perched against red silk. Attached to it is a small tyrannosaurus keychain. “It’s a key,” Tsukishima states plainly. 

“To this house,” Kuroo clarifies. 

“We’re not asking you to move in! We just wanted to get you something to show that we’re serious about you. Doesn’t quite feel like home without you, you know,” says Bokuto. 

Tsukishima flushes at the admission. 

Kuro smiles sheepishly and adds, “It’s symbolic. But also literal. Use it whenever you’d like.” 

The key feels heavy in Tsukishima’s hand as he ghosts a finger along its delicate design, the tips of his fingers brushing against the key’s jagged teeth. He’s overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of warmth as he looks at his boyfriends. “Thanks.” And then, “I love you.” 

Kuroo and Bokuto’s mouths fall open in surprise. Tsukishima squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in the sheets, unwilling to face his boyfriends after his accidental confession.

“Did he just—” Bokuto goes bug-eyed, his mouth still gaping open like a fish. 

“He did,” Kuroo confirms, sounding equally baffled. “Tsukki loves us.” 

“Can we just. Pretend I didn’t say anything,” Tsukishima pleads. He feels the weight of his boyfriends pressing against his back. He feels the tickle of Bokuto’s hair against his chin and shivers. 

“Why would we do that?” Bokuto asks as he layers Tsukishima’s shoulder blades with kisses. “We love you too, you know.”

“And now you’re _definitely_ not getting rid of us,” Kuroo chimes in. 

Which is fine, Tsukishima thinks, because he’s not going anywhere either. “You’re both so embarrassing,” he grumbles and turns over to plant a kiss on both of their foreheads. 

“Maybe,” Kuroo admits easily. “But you _love_ us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my God this is laziest edit I've ever done Jess if you're reading this I'm so sorry (I basically just deleted stuff rather than fixed it?? sleeep deprivation, guys. It's the worst)
> 
> Also I will eventually be writing the akaken fic guys! I had so many things I wanted to put here but now that I'm finally done this chapter I'm not quite sure what else to say besides thank you SO much for all the encouragement it means the world! I'm not sure I would've even made it past the second chapter without it so bless your souls for all the kudos and thoughtful messages!
> 
> Anyhow if you ever want to talk headcanons and rarepairs, you can find me on tumblr at my main account **[here](http://www.montystilinski.tumblr.com)** or on my Haikyuu related blog, **[tobioslilgiant](http://www.tobioslilgiant.tumblr.com)**. Feel free to message me or to send me prompts!


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